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writingsfromhome · 4 months

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Red Rose II

A/N: Did some more work on this series. It’s one of the first fics I ever posted here (2020!?!) but felt writer’s block every time I tried to continue. The story is finally shaping up in my head though. It deals with fantastical elements. I’d say it’s not exactly my average fic…

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

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My head is pounding like a bass drum when I wake up, the room I’m in is too dark to see but the sliver of light coming from below the curtains gives the day away. I try to make out the room around me, the night comes back to me in bits.

I must be at the handsome bloke’s-Harry it was. I remember, Harry offered to let me crash at his. I gently turn to stare at the spot next to me but it looks made. He slept somewhere else—he really was a gentleman.

My body creaks as I pivot off the bed and onto the plush carpet. With the softness of the covers and the quality of the carpet, I figured Harry was well off. Compared to my Ikea flat, and synthetic rugs, this was a castle.

I find the light switch and the brightness assaults my sensitive eyes, but I make out a bathroom off to the side. Sweet.

I looked horrible; as hard as I’d done myself up last night I had undone myself in the hours following. And looking at my puffy face and raccoon eyes, I could barely believe Harry wasn’t more afraid of me. Maybe he just pitied me.

By the time I walk back into the room, the curtains have been pushed open, the bed made, and a plain black tee and palazzo pants in my size lay on the bed. It looks exactly like something I would wear on my day off. A glass of water and two painkillers sit on the sidetable. There was no way Harry did all this, how did he find clothes in my size? And why would he make my bed?

I leave the questions for later and take the painkillers (after double checking the label), take the clothes back into the shower and wash the weird night away. It’s not hard finding the kitchen from the smell of coffee and baked goods.

I find Harry sitting in a robe on the balcony off to an open concept kitchen. Two women prepare breakfast, in uniform—so they definitely weren’t family, and another man in uniform stands outside. He definitely didn’t make my bed. I quietly head out to Harry.

“Once I can, that’s all she needs to know.” Harry sips a coffee with his back to me. The man outside only nods to me before going back in.

“Rose,” Harry says. I jump, how did he know I was here. “I can see your reflection in the glass.”

“Do you read minds or something?” I ask as I walk into his view and settle into the chair opposite him.

“Or something,” he smiles. From what I remember from yesterday, he was big and bold and broody but this morning his face is lit from below and he doesn’t seem as intimidating—it holds a kindness that was missing yesterday. At an angle, he looks almost harmless. Almost.

“Thanks for...well for everything.” I wasn’t sure how to approach his kindness. I knew everything came with a price, Harry was being really nice, he’d kept to his word and left me to recover, but I didn’t know why. That made me uneasy. As I think it, Harry fixes me with a stare, waiting for me to continue but I don’t know what to say so I babble. “I usually don’t do this, follow strangers home. But last night was kind of really awful and-shit, Jeremy! I..”

I pat my pockets out of habit but of course my phone isn’t there. I look up and my phone is on the table. I grab it, and look up, Harry continues to stare as if he was watching a rat in a maze he’d constructed and a chill goes down my spine.

Leave it up to me to make things weird.

My train of thoughts freak me out so I just excuse myself and go inside, my screen isn’t cracked anymore. I run my finger over the screen to make sure but it’s entirely smooth. Was I hallucinating yesterday?

“Y/N, why are you calling so bloody early?” Jeremy’s sleepy voice answers the phone. I check the room and spot the time on the fridge. 8:44.

“Sorry, must be the jet lag. I just want you to know I’m okay.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you be?” I hear him shuffling.

“I...” I realise he knew absolutely nothing from yesterday. I never called him-he probably thinks I’m still at my ex’s! “I’m sorry Jer go back to bed. I’ll explain later.”

He grumbles something but he sounds half-asleep already. I tuck my phone into my pocket and go back outside. The women have disappeared and a buffet is laid out in front of Harry. He points to my seat and I take it.

“Wow,” I was at a loss for words. But I ask, “Did you fix my phone?”

“It fell out of your pocket when I was helping you to bed.” Harry says. “I cracked the screen so I fixed it. Brought it out here for when you had breakfast.”

“Oh no, I um, I actually broke it last night!” I pull it out with a nervous laugh. How did he fix it? “I got angry and sort of...yeah, anyway, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me. I really...I’m actually overwhelmed with how nice you’re being.” My laugh comes out in a rush of air, I’m trying to figure this man out. He didn’t feel threatening but there were all these red flags that made it seem so.

He finally cracks a smile back and nods. “This is how a woman like yourself should be treated. Let’s just enjoy the feast, and enjoy the morning.”

I smile as he pours me coffee. Something in the back of my head wants to analyze everything about the man in front of me, his good looks and his good manners. But also the cold way he observes me versus the short bursts of sunshine in his laugh. His hand keeps brushing mine, and he makes me blush with his compliments. But he continues to call me Rose, he doesn’t even ask for my name again. So I don’t offer it.

“So do you do this often?” I ask. “Invite a stranger from a pub and take care of her?”

“I’ve been visiting The Good Folk for decades and I’ve never met a woman like you.”

My heart skips a beat, not at the compliment. He said decades, but he had less wrinkles than I did and I wasn’t even 30. How old was he?

“I bet you say that to all the women you take home,” I say.

“Yes,” he admits and I look up from my toast. He seems unfazed by his admission but he notices my expression, “What?”

“You just admitted to saying that to all the women you take home.”

“Yes?” He stares. “This is the first time I’ve taken a woman home from there.”

It sounds like a lie or a technicality but he’s entirely honest. And I don’t know how I know that.

The uniformed man suddenly appears and says something to Harry who excuses himself and leaves. Was he like Mr. Alfred, butler to a billionaire type? Harry sure was mysterious enough to have one.

I use the time alone to look around, the view showed an expanse of green fields and in the distance the skyline of London. I’d lived here all my life yet I couldn’t figure where exactly we were.

I look back inside, the place is spotless. Harry must be richer than I thought if he could afford a place like this and hire help. He was a gentleman with a streak of odd, I conclude.

I wanted to figure the odd bit out.

“Are you done with breakfast?” I jump when one of the women from earlier appears beside me. But on a closer look, she was a lot younger than me. Maybe around 15?

“I’m done. You’re quite young. What’s your name?”

She giggles and looks back to where the other women is watering the outdoor plants. When she turns at the sound of the giggles, I realise she was just as young. Was this even legal?

“I’m called Dot, that’s Oona.”

“Nice to meet you Dot.” I watch as she picks up a stack of plates. She was stronger than she looked but still I ask, “Do you need help?”

She just giggles again as if what I asked was absurd and simply carries the large stack inside. I decide to help anyway, feeling unusual if I sat while they cleared the table. It wasn’t something I was used to.

I drop the coffee cups off on the counter when Harry appears and pulls me away.

“What are you doing?” He demands.

“I’m just helping clear...” I turn to point to the girls but they stare at us. It reminds me of the weird motorcycle guy yesterday who offered to give me a ride home. They have the same look in their eyes and when I turn to Harry I can see why. His features are set in an aggressive expression. I didn’t know what I’d done except to help out, and I didn’t want the two girls to get in trouble.

“Harry I...” I touch his arm. “They didn’t ask or nothing, I was just sitting there and thought I could help. I’m not usually waited on...especially by girls younger than me so it was just weird to just sit there.”

His eyes slide from the two behind me to me, his expression softens ever so slightly. “We all have our roles. Let them do theirs. They’ve been in my employment for many years.”

“Okay,” I agree quickly. I wanted to move away from the tense room and shift Harry’s attention away from Dot and Oona. I would have to apologise later, I didn’t mean to get them in trouble. And maybe ask what their skin care tips were—there was no way Harry hired children so they must have amazing genetics.

“Did you have any plans today? I know you people usually go to work during the day,” Harry leads me to a large room that must be an office. I’m taken aback by his bluntness saying “my people”.

“We’re not all rich unfortunately,” I say passively. I couldn’t figure out if Harry was a good guy or not. One second he was kindly hosting me and the next he looks ready to throw his help out the window because I helped them.

“What do riches have to do with your plans?” Harry looks genuinely confused. He played aloof really well.

“My people?” I remind him.

“Yes, what do you do during the day?”

I shake my head. He was so confusing. “I usually have work but I’m off for the week. I thought I would spend today with...my ex. But after yesterday-“

“You deserve better. He doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

I laugh, slightly nervous having all his attention so close. “Right. That’s nice of you to say. But I seem to have a bad history with men, I don’t think I even know what I deserve at this point.”

“I thought it was human nature to follow your hearts?” Harry stops fiddling with the book in his hands and moves towards me. “Love makes the world go round or something like that?” Harry drags his fingers up and down my arm and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. “How can you not know what you deserve.”

“I...” words leave my mind as I lean in towards him. His touch empties me of thought and I just want more of him. But as I lean into him it’s like he realises what was happening. He jumps back, letting go of me and I straighten up.

“Uh,” Harry clears his throat, “I can’t-“ he looks to the door just as it creaks open, I immediately feel the familiar burn of embarassment that came with rejection. What was wrong with me? He kept making it clear he was just being nice, he wasn’t interested like that. Why did I react to him so strongly?

“What is it?” Harry sounds annoyed at whoever’s at the door. When I finally look, it’s the man from earlier. His Alfred.

“Your presence is needed at...” he glances at me and back at Harry.

“I told you, tell her I’ll get back to her once I can-“

“It’s quite urgent,” his butler’s eyes continue flicking between the both of us.

I check the time on my phone and the movement catches Harry’s attention. I avoid looking directly at him, “I should head back home now anyway. You’re obviously busy.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a low voice. “You can stay as long as you need.”

“I’m pretty recovered from last night,” I smile. “I think I just have some of my things in the room I stayed in.”

“Dot will get it for you,” Harry puts his hand on my back as I walk to the door. His butler continues staring at us as he moves aside and follows us out.

Dot suddenly appears with my wallet and clothes from yesterday, laundered and smelling amazing.

“Wow,” I take them from her, scanning her face to be sure she was alright. She just gives me a bright smile contrasting her icy hands. “Thank you.” I tell her and turn back to Harry, “I can’t thank you enough for last night. I was a mess and...you helped. I seriously owe you one.”

Harry’s sharp gaze settles on me and I hear a gasp from Dot. It’s like the air was sucked out of the room, I glance back at Dot and her eyes are wide. His butler also looks startled. Were they okay?

“You don’t need to,” Harry finally says. “Consider it a kindness, not a favour.”

“No no,” I walk with Harry towards the front. His house was like a maze. “Nobody is ever this kind for no reason, I’ll make it up to you.” If there was anything life taught me, strangers didn’t do things out of pure kindness. I didn’t want strings down the road. I would rather just let him know I would return the favour and have that sit between us.

His expression is unreadable as he opens the door, a woman already stands outside with a car idling on the road. Woah.

“I accept,” Harry says. I raise my eyebrow, he had an odd way of talking. That’s what made him more intriguing.

On impulse, I go to press a quick kiss to his cheek but he jerks back. I back away, my cheeks aflame, and walk out with my things in hand. The woman opens my door for me and as hard as I try, I still glance back at Harry before I get in and give him a lame wave. His gaze never leaves mine, even after I sit in. He really did just do this to help me out, I read too much into it. He obviously didn’t feel the attraction I felt.

***

“You know that sounds completely made up? I’ve never even heard of The Good Folk.”

It’s late afternoon and I’m catching Jeremy up on last night’s adventure. I didn’t think his eyes could get bigger than they already were but with each part of the story they grow wider.

“As if you know every single pub in London,” I roll my eyes at my best friend.

“If the pub was lit at 1am it must be popular enough-I would know. Where does this guy live?”

“I...” I try to remember the route we took back to my flat but it’s foggy. Maybe I was too preoccupied with getting over being rejected multiple times. But I do remember we arrived at my flat within half hour. “Right outside London but I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Doesn’t sound like you,” Jeremy nudges me. “Does somebody have a new special somebody in their life already?”

“I wish!” I really did. “He was mostly distant, nothing happened! He didn’t even let me kiss him goodbye. Plus, I just broke up with you know who.”

“We all knew that chapter was coming to a close,” Jer huffs. “You weren’t even in love with him.”

“Well,” I don’t have much to say to that. Jeremy was right, the relationship was getting colder. And after a warm bath and a meal, I could see clear enough. I was angry yesterday for letting it get to the point I was cheated on. I never had the balls to end it myself. As strong as I made myself on the outside, I hadn’t been strong enough inside to admit it and just end it.

Mostly I was scared to be alone again.

“Well,” Jeremy pulls me into a hug and kisses my forehead. “I’m going to start some dinner for us. You can go through the mail that’s been piling up for you.”

I reach for the stack he drops down beside me. Most of the bills I paid online, I put those aside. Junk, pamphlets, which just left two to actually look at. The first is a postcard from my foster sister, she was doing her gap year and made sure to send me a postcard from each country even though I’d seen her while I was away. The other is unmarked, thin. I open it and inside is just a note.

The Good Folk, tonight. 10:30pm.

Did Harry send this? I flip the paper over but it’s blank, until it catches the light and I realize the faint shimmer of a logo. It’s a spiral in the palest silver but there’s nothing else written anywhere. Maybe Harry did send it, he didn’t have my number but he did know where I lived. Maybe I was seeing him again tonight, maybe Jer was right. Butterflies take over my nervous system but I tell them not to get their hopes up. They don’t listen.

“What are you grinning at?” Jeremy calls from the kitchen—the open concept allowed him to see me.

“I might have a date tonight, half past ten,” I hold up the paper. “Harry.”

“Ooh,” he grins before it morphs into concern. “That’s late...you don’t think?”

“We’ll see,” I skim my fingers over the writing. Maybe he just wanted to talk, but if a guy wanted to see you twice in a day that usually meant something right? Even though he looked afraid everytime I went in for a kiss. I sigh. We’ll see.

***

I look back at the shops around me. I swear this was where I was last night. But the place where The Good Folk should have stood was just a Gregg’s. A Google search didn’t turn up anything so all I had to rely on was memory and even that was shoddy.

I ask a couple passing by but nobody knows what I’m talking about. Great, Harry would probably think I stood him up.

I decide to wander, maybe I’ll stumble on it again. I don’t even try to think, hoping my memory will lead me. The dark streets remind me of my near meltdown last night. It was late, if I didn’t find it in the next five minutes I was driving back.

Just as I think it, I see a familiar sign. The Good Folk. But it’s on a street corner and it was most definitely not on a corner last night. Definitely weird.

When I walk in, it’s past 10:30 and I hope Harry wouldn’t mind. I walk to the bar, even more people staring tonight than last. I definitely didn’t look how I did last night, was it just because I wasn’t a regular?

“Surprised you’re back,” the barkeep actually acknowledges me today. He has a petite woman working the counter too.

“Just meeting someone,” I say. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was late too.

“A woman like you should be careful,” he sets a drink in front of me.

“I didn’t order th-“

“I did,” a soft voice says to my left. I look at the source, and am surprised to see a blonde guy who definitely was not Harry. He did look familiar. Then I remember, I saw him last night.

“I know you. You were here yesterday-or rather this morning right?” He has kind eyes when he smiles at my question.

“Yes, I saw you come and go. I never got the chance to speak with you.”

I take a seat, may as well while I waited. As I do I remember more; he was glaring at Harry when we left. “Now’s your chance!” I smile at him and take a sip. “Woah, this is amazing.”

“I thought you might like it,” he watches me drink more. I wasn’t even halfway through and I already wanted a second. “Wild elderberry cocktail.”

“I have to remember that,” I say and make a mental note as I gulp down more.

“I never caught your name...”

“Oh, I didn’t even introduce myself how rude of-“

“Rose,” my back straightens as Harry’s familiar voice rings across the bar. What was up with him interrupting my conversations here?

“Rose,” the blonde nods, ignoring the fact that Harry had answered his question. I open my mouth to correct him, to give my real name but he gives me his. “Elliot.”

I can’t even respond because Harry suddenly crowds me. There’s a fiery heat emanating from him towards Elliot. Maybe there was something between them, and the way they glare at each other, I don’t want to find out.

“Took you long enough,” I tell Harry. But the pub is so silent you can hear a pin drop. I look around and everyone is staring at us, this must be one of those places where everyone knew everyone else. And the vibes were telling me these two must have a history.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks. “Why are you here?”

“Um, you invited me? The letter?”

“What letter,” he finally tears his eyes from Elliot and he looks fierce. My stomach drops and my eyes sting. I was such an idiot, of course he didn’t send it. Why was I so obsessed with the idea that I could mean something to this man I just met. Why was I acting like a hormonal teenager about this!?

“I got a letter to be here at 10:30...I just thought it was you I-“

“It was me,” Elliot interrupts. I look to him, his face is a breath of fresh air compared to Harry’s fiery storm.

“How did you know where I lived?” I ask but it doesn’t matter because Harry’s put his body between Elliot and I.

“You stay out of this. Leave her alone.” Harry’s words are threatening.

“She’s not yours,” Elliot says lazily. “She came of her own free will.”

“Free will? She came on an invite. By you.”

“An invite is just that. Her choice.”

“Stay away toadstool, if you touch a single-“

“Hey!” I use my hands to pry them apart. “I’m sitting right here! And I don’t need a knight in shining bloody armour. You,” I turn to Harry. “Don’t need to worry about me. It’s not like you want me. Elliot invited me out, I’m here for him. Not you.”

If I thought it was silent before, it was void of even a breath now. Harry looks like steam could be coming out of him and just like a switch, he backs away and straightens out. His face falls into neutral as he nods.

“As you wish.” He turns, with a last cold look at Elliot, he walks out. Everyone watches him go and as soon as he does there’s a burst of excited chatter.

“What was that about,” I turn to Elliot.

“The past.” He says vaguely before ordering me a second drink. I didn’t even realise I stress drank the first one.

The bartender eyes me as he hands me over the drink.

“Thanks,” I slide it closer to me.

“Remember what I said,” he mumbles as he glances at Elliot and walks away. Did everyone have something against Elliot? But when I look at him he looks too sweet to have ever done something bad enough to hold a grudge. Everything but his eyes, there’s an icy glint to them that wasn’t there before Harry interrupted. The past must be something formidable.

“Let’s go to my table,” Elliot gestures to where he was sitting yesterday. I follow with mixed feelings. Eventually, I decide I was just here for fun. It wasn’t that serious.

***

Dawn creeps on the horizon, and I’m surprised to see it as Elliot helps me into my coat.

“How has it been hours?” I ask as I slip my hands in. “We’ve been talking for so long!”

“I guess so,” Elliot lets go of the jacket and I untuck my hair from underneath. Tonight was...so different than any I’ve ever had. Elliot and I had just talked all night, I barely remember about what. He was funny too. And The Good Folk stayed open with people in and out all night. “It was nice to get to know you.”

“This place is busy as ever, does it ever close?” I glance at the patrons. Some of them don’t even hide their open stare. I was starting to get used to it.

“Closes at sunrise.” Elliot stares.

“Sunrise? It must open late then. That’s an odd schedule.” I think about what Jer said. A place like this would be infamous in London, why had nobody heard of it?

“It’s open sunset to sunrise.”

“Interesting.” I follow Elliot out into the street. The sky is brightening, the midnight black turning into a deep sea blue.

“This is where we part ways Rose.” He says Rose like an enchantment, and my body wants to move closer but I stay where I am. He continues studying me the way he had been all night. I had been studying him too.

“It was really nice. Tonight.”

“I enjoyed myself. Despite the nuisance from early on.”

“Nuisance?” I ask. “Oh. Harry?”

“Harry,” his lip curls. The boyish sweetness bitters before washing away again. “Don’t mind him.”

“Oh I don’t. He helped me out in a pinch yesterday but otherwise I barely know him.”

“In a…pinch?”

“Yeah. It was pretty bad but,” I shrug. “Anyway. I should get home. My friend might start to worry.”

“Of course Rose,” Elliot says. He eyes me for a moment. His brow tightens and he continues, “Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe,” my heart picks up its pace. “We’ll see.”

His smile stretches his lips, he seemed amused.

With a nod he walks away and turns the corner. I stand there even after I’m unable to see him, and smile into my scarf. I just had an all nighter date with a cute guy who seemed interested in me.

When I tell Jer this he just scoffs.

“Be careful,” he reminds me. “Firstly I’ve never heard of this bar. Secondly how the fuck did this Elliot guy get your address? And thirdly, you don’t get involved with two guys with history. Trust me.”

“Jer,” I roll my eyes. “Okay. The address thing is weird, maybe I said it out loud when I was trying to get a ride home?”

“Still creepy! Hold on-“ he picks up his ringing phone and I wait.

Aside from the address thing, sure. It was a big weird. But Elliot did not give off creepy vibes. I just had to do some more digging if I was interested.

Was I interested? I think of Elliot’s amused blue eyes and blonde hair, his laugh, and the way he made most of the night about me. He didn’t try to kiss me or take me home. We just talked. It was nice.

My mind wanders to Harry. He had taken me home, taken care of everything. Was respectful. But he was kind of overprotective, and aloof. I didn’t care for that.

Elliot was open whereas Harry was hard to read-

“Are you even listening,” Jeremy snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“Huh?” I look up and in the time I had gotten lost in my thoughts, Jeremy had changed into his parka and his boyfriend stands beside him ready to leave.

“Y/N get some rest. I’m worried about you. You can’t just go from one relationship—even if it was a dying one, and hop into a love triangle.”

“Love triangles are messy,” Bryce comments.

“I know! Promise me you’ll take a break. Process your last relationship before you jump into anything new?”

He was right. Of course he was. It had just been such a long time since I felt wanted that I was letting it fuck me up like I was a teen madly in love. I barely knew them. And I’d forgotten all about my cheating ex. On one hand it was good, but I couldn’t slide into anything new.

“Okay. Promise.”

“Good.” Jer sighs. “We’ll be out of your hair by tonight so don’t make me worry about you.”

“What? Why? You two stay the week like I promised!”

“No we need to head back north. He misses the countryside,” Jer points back to his partner.

“The cow shite can wait Bryce, please? Keep me company longer?!”

Jer hugs me against him. “We’ll do lunch today before we’re off okay? Get some sleep though.”

I’ve known Jeremy since I was 11 and he was 10. I had just been placed in a new foster home, the third one I’d been in since I was 6. Jeremy had arrived a month before me, he’d been in the system since he was 9. He had given me the downlow on who to avoid and who was nice, in return I’d stuck up for him when he was picked on. He was a tiny thing then, scrawny and wide-eyed. I had been weathered by the system and didn’t care who was nice and who you had to avoid. I learned after my first home you had to become the person to avoid, and then leave everyone else alone.

We were separated a few years later and found each other on the streets when I was 17 and he was 16. When I turned 18, saved enough money to rent a shitty flat with another girl, I let him crash with me until he could afford his own rent.

We always looked out for each other. He was one of 3 people I considered family. So when he gives me advice, I take it.

***

“No I’m telling you she works at Boots and she complimented my eyeliner.” Jer bangs the table. We’re sat at lunch, a couple day drinks in. “I was like bitch you spat on me when we were 12 and called me ten different kind of slurs!”

“Shut up!” I cover my mouth. “I need to see it for myself.”

“Tomorrow. Visit her. I wonder if she’ll recognize you.”

“Probably not. I look pretty different.” These days I dyed my hair a triage of browns and blondes and grew out of my baby face.

“True. She might compliment your hair.”

“She better not. She used to make fun of how frizzy it got-“

“Until you woke her up with scissors over her hair one night.”

“Shh,” I laugh. “Don’t say my crazy so publicly.”

“It’s not your crazy,” Jer grabs my hand. “It’s what kept you alive. Us.”

We grow quiet as the heavier bits of the memories sink in.

“It was tiring,” I slip my hand away. “Always being switched on. Even now, I can’t help it.”

“Until it comes to men. Then my good friend y/n goes poof and this stranger appears.”

I sigh, I had issues. “I can’t help being fucked up. It’s just like, when I sense they want me something inside me lights up. And I tell myself to calm down but all rational thought disappears!”

“Girl trust me I get it. Until I met Bryce, I was sharing beds with so many people.”

“I remember.” Back then it was me picking him up from random parts of town after being kicked out by a spouse home too early, or a partner back from out of town.

“What’s that bloke’s name? Harry was it? He didn’t want you-“

“Ouch! I know!”

“No not like that!” Jer says. “You seemed into him the first night you came back. Even though he wasn’t into you.”

“Yeah. Maybe just cuz he was nice. Why is finding love so hard? I feel like I’m not cut out for it!”

“You want a love that transcends everything because you read too much romance.”

“Stop being dramatic,” I roll my eyes. But it was true, romance novels were my vice. I couldn’t help but believe in true love.

The one thing I knew about my parents is that my mum died in childbirth and my dad died when I was 3 from heartbreak. He loved her more than he could love the sum of the two of them. He left me behind for her. That was true love.

I had a whole of 2 pictures from my life. One of my mum pregnant with me. Another of my mum and dad before they got pregnant I think. The way they looked at each other—I just want a slice of that. I always believed true love existed simply because I knew the story of my parents.

“Okay. Bryce is texting me nonstop let me see what he wants.” Jer leaves me at the table. I sigh and sip my wine, wishing I wasn’t such a hopeless romantic.

It was the part of me that always got hurt. Every other part I had learned to grow armour on but the part of me that yearned never learned how to.

My chest aches as I think about the love I don’t have. I feel it in the air around me as it quivers with something that feels akin to mourning.

“What are you doing?” I hear from the table next to me. There was a couple seated after us, Jer and I guessed they were colleagues. It was a game we liked to play—guessing the lives of people around us. We’d done it as long as we could remember.

The woman slides her hand up the man’s arm. He’s the one that asked the question. He doesn’t seem into it.

“Sorry,” Jer says, sitting back down just as the woman jerks back.

“I uh-“ she pushes her chair back. “Sorry I don’t know what-“

“Uh oh,” I look at Jer. “They just blurred some coworker lines.”

“No it’s okay. Mags wait-“ the guy manages to her back in her seat and they talk too low to hear.

“Juicy,” we eye them for a few seconds.

“Bryce is picking me up in 15, we need to start heading back otherwise we’ll be driving in traffic.”

“I wish you stayed the week.” I pout.

“Your 1.5 bedroom flat isn’t big enough for all of us. Call me when you finally get that promotion and buy a bigger flat.”

“You’ll be the first person I call. You know that.”

“I know that.” He smiles.

“When will you be in town next?”

“Not for a while unless my best friend decides to do something stupid.”

“I won’t,” I promise him. “Maybe I’ll come up to you in November.”

“Open invitation.” Jer reminds me.

I go home to an emptier flat, it makes me feel more lonely than I should. I never had a lot of people in my life, I’d grown accustomed to being alone. To loneliness.

But as an adult, the pangs dug in just as deep.

I soothe it by falling asleep early.

All I remember of my dreams are intense colours and emotions, vibrant landscapes and a looming sense of dread. I wake up drenched in sweat, the second time that week that my dreams were that intense. Maybe I should be visiting a doctor.

***

I feel like I’m wasting potential as I sit in my flat on a Friday night. I had been laying on my couch for the last two hours, first scrolling through my phone, then being jumpscared by a post from my ex, then zoning out to a movie, before going back on my phone.

The cycle is vicious. And all I can think of is Elliot. No. I couldn’t think of Elliot.

Maybe I should join one of those dating apps. Hopeless romantic looking for true love, but also dtf to fill the time.

God. I was miserable.

Something inside me is drawn to go back to the pub. To the patrons that loved to stare. To the pair of eyes I didn’t mind stared.

“Jer said no.” I say out loud. Well, he didn’t say no. Just not to do anything rash. To process my emotions. “Fine.”

I continue laying on my couch. Let my ex flit through my mind. I thought I loved him. I think I just liked the idea of him. After the initial lover phase, we were really in two different places all the time.

I sink deeper into the couch. Who have I loved? Have I ever lover anyone romantically?

I remember a guy I dated when I was 24. It lasted 8 months and 14 days. Jer had had to sleep on the couch for a week because the day I was broken up with I’d found my way to his flat, crashed on his bed, and stayed glued onto his mattress.

Until he had to physically carry me into a shower and spray me with water. But that’s another story.

He was the closes thing I felt to love. To loved. He moved to Mexico. I remember he told me it was wrong timing. I remember thinking I was cursed.

I sink further and further into the couch.

I was 28 and never really loved anyone. How pathetic was that?

Suddenly I can’t breathe. It feels like the couch was drowning me whole like quicksand.

Even pulling myself out feels like quicksand, I use all my strength to sit up and only then do my lungs inflate with a deep breath.

“Holy fuck.” I gasp.

What the fuck was that!?

I look back at my couch but it looks back the exact same. It felt like it was swallowing me moment earlier. What the fuck!

I had to get out of here.

That’s how I find myself at the local corner store buying junk, and browsing the crisps.

“Sweet tooth?”

“Huh?” I nearly jump at the sight of Elliot. “Wha-Elliot?”

“Rose.”

“What are you…are you stalking me?”

“Stalking?”

“What are you doing here?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets, that’s when I note how casual he was dressed. Slacks and a half-zip.

“I was at a party nearby,” his eyes flicker over the items in my hand.

“Weird coincidence.” He knew my address, I knew that.

“It might appear that way. What are you doing now?”

“Um…” I glance down at my hands. “Buying…stuff.”

“Want to join us? The party’s by the water.”

If it was a fake party he wouldn’t be inviting me. Unless he was going to take me to a second location to do something worse.

“I’m busy so…”

“Oh. My apologies.” He gets formal very quickly but his eyes crinkle with a smile, the blueish grey drawing me in. “I’ll let you get on.”

“Well,” he wasn’t pushy. Maybe I should see this party. See the people he hung out with. “Maybe I can drop by for a little bit? It’s nearby?”

“10 minute by walking.”

“I don’t need this then,” I pool my items onto a random shelf. “We can go when you want.”

He goes to the front with his items and at the last second I buy a pack of cigarettes. I tried to drop the habit many times but ever since I got back from my vacation I’d picked it up again. I tried not to blame my ex.

“Those aren’t very good for you.” Elliot eyes the pack as I slip them into my pocket.

“You’re telling me you’ve never smoked a cigarette in your life?”

“I have. It doesn’t taste very good.”

“I don’t think they’re supposed to taste good,” I can’t help but laugh.

“So what are they good for?” He asks and it’s so bizarre because he seemed genuinely curious about it.

“Um? Stress relief? Comfort?”

“Sounds like something a lover should offer.”

I nearly walk into traffic when he says it. So bluntly. Kind of like how Harry spoke. I wonder if they just grew up so rich they were from another world.

“Sure if you have one. Lovers are fleeting and temporary. Cigarettes—they’re permanent. Until I guess…you fuck your lungs up so much you become fleeting and temporary. Shit sorry.”

Elliot looks at me with confusion, like I was speaking an alien language. Maybe he didn’t get the joke. I dunno. I grow quiet instead.

“So what exactly is it you do?” I ask after a bout of silence. I can’t remember if he’s told me this in our conversation the other night.

“What do you mean I do?”

“Like in life? To earn money and all that?”

“In life? I lead.”

I glance up at him after the douchey answer. Oh he was serious.

“Cool so you’re like, upper management at your company or like you own the business?”

He cocks his head, “I manage my company yes. But I don’t own anything yet. I report to someone above me.”

“Right.” He was being very literal. And it sounded like nepotism. I didn’t want the headache of knowing what his company did so I don’t bother with more questions.

He leads me down a set of steps and to the canal. People sit along the grassy bank and I’m a bit surprised to see them.

“Elliot my man!” Someone shouts. “Did you bring the beer?”

Elliot holds up a hand holding two cases. I think back, I don’t remember him buying two. But I could have been too busy checking out his backside. I needed help.

“So Rose,” Elliot says after handing the drinks over. “I would like to see you again. Talk some more. Maybe come clean about all this.”

“All what?” I ask.

“The truth of your parents, how you came to The Good Folk-“

“My parents?” What did he know about my parents?

“Yes. You spoke about them the other night.”

“I did?” I blink to clear the cobwebs but I have a hard time recalling exactly what Elliot and I discussed. Mostly just that it was a nice time.

“Rose,” Elliot gets out in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder. His eyes are intense as they bore into me. “I’m not a threat. I was only curious.”

What a weird fucking thing to say.

I pull my cigarettes out. “I need a smoke.”

“Need?” He lets go of my shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Is it all consuming?”

“Sure?” I just needed to step away. There were too many people around for this not to be safe but I wanted space from Elliot. He was being weird.

“Understood.” He backs away. “I’ll wait until the need is satisfied.”

“Thanks?” I mutter. I step away and as soon as I do at least 3 women replace me and tug at him to join their group. His eyes linger on mine as he walks away with them and I look away.

I move further away from the group, closer to the underpass of a small bridge.

I take out a cigarette and place it in my mouth before I pat my pockets, and realize I had no lighter.

Shite.

I note a few people sitting around, a bright dot hovering around their faces. People had lighters. I could ask one of them.

But the more I look at everyone, the more I want to stay in the shadows. What was I doing here? Jer would kill me if he found out. Maybe I should text him. No, he’d freak out. Fuck!

I lean against the stone wall, pressing my lips against the cigarette still dangling in my mouth. The paper glides smoothly between my lips, the familiar smell of tobacco drifting up to my nose.

The air around me grows cooler and I close my eyes, tilting my head back. Trying to ground myself. The stone is uneven behind my head but it doesn’t matter. I feel cloaked in the dark, embraced by it. I feel safe.

I take a few deep breaths, the joint between my lips a prop for the time being.

As my body relaxes and my mind wanders, Harry’s face materializes before me; if I wasn’t so relaxed it might have scared me.

His green eyes search mine like they’d done before. He leans in closer, the darkness surrounding him. The only light comes from a smoke between his own lips. It throws shadows on his cheekbones, making him look like he was carved from marble.

We’re locked in a staring contest but it doesn’t feel weird. He’s part of the darkness, staring into his eyes keeps me grounded.

He leans down, closer to me. The orange tip of his cigarette touches mine and I can even feel the heat of it, smell the smoky air around us.

I inhale slowly, its an intimate gesture—him giving me light. My smoke catches fire and he leans away with a small smirk, away until the darkness swallows him and I’m alone again.

I take in a deep breath to sigh but smoke shoots down my throat.

I throw my eyes wide open as I cough. The cigarette goes flying out of my mouth and my eyes water.

“What the fuck?” I cough out uncontrollably.

My cigarette lies on the ground in front of me, dying embers on its tip.

What. I crouch down and it really is mine. How could that be?

I hold it to my lips and inhale. Exhale.

It was lit.

I whip my head around, was Harry here? Did I not imagine that?

But the closest person is making out with someone else on the other side of the bridge. No one had been here. Unless they’d lit it while I had my eyes closed and walked away.

A chill goes up my spine.

I had to go home. This was getting weird.

When I tell Elliot I was going to go home he’s flanked by half a dozen girls. They look at me with disdain but I ignore it. I was used to looks like that.

“You had your cigarette?” Elliot asks.

“Yeah. Oh. Sorry I didn’t offer one. Did you want-“

“That’s not my smoking preference,” he smiles and he’s the man in the pub again. Kind eyes and an infectious smile. “Meet me at the pub one of these nights Rose?”

“I can’t promise anything,” I play with the pack in my pocket, eager to leave.

“I don’t expect you to,” Elliot says seriously.

“Okay. Well. I’ll try to make it.”

“Great.”

I leave behind a weary smile and hitch it back home.

***

I wake up again drenched in sweat. This whole week I’d been having intense dreams, but all I remember when I wake up is how chaotic it was. The rest slips away like sand in the breeze. It’s frustrating because they feel similar, like I should be remembering what they’re saying.

“Have you been smoking pot?” Lydia asks. I’m back at work that Monday and I’m detailing to my friend who’s serving me my coffee.

Lydia and I met in uni when we were 19. Like all people, I’d been wary and guarded with her back then. But she’d been persistent and earned my trust somehow. We’d been best friends since. I’d watched her come up with and execute this idea of owning her own cafe all on her own. It was London’s top 5 book cafes. And even though it was out of my way I tried to come here most days for coffee.

“No, but it’s making me sleep so shitty.” I complain. “I wish I could just pop a nyquil and call it quits for the night.”

“I can hook you up with magnesium? It’s supposed to be superb.”

I grab my cup from her, “I’ll get super drunk tonight. Blackout for free.”

“Not alone,” she comes around the counter and hugs me. “You were mia this last week. I’m coming over with wine tonight and you catch me up on it.”

I sigh and agree. It would be a lot to cover.

The work day is lost in the bustle of catching up and meetings. By the time I see Lydia again I feel like someone could tip me over and I’d crash. But after putting on some face masks and pouring a generous helping of wine I settle in and tell her all about it.

“So mysterious,” she says when I’m done. Obviously I leave out the weird parts, like the pub moving physically and having my cig light up on its own because I’m not even entirely sure it happened. “The Harry guy seems like a gentleman. The other bloke seems a bit too coincidental to not be creepy.”

“But Harry was being so possessive.”

“Pink flag?” Lydia asks.

“Maybe. Jer said to stay away from it all. Honestly I need a man break? I think after my last relationship I just need to be alone again. I’ve been trying to fill the hole of loneliness with who I can date next. It’s gross.”

“It’s not gross,” she nudges me. “It’s human. Wanting connection.”

“Yeah,” I think on it. “I guess it is. Lord knows I didn’t get enough of it as a child.”

“There you go. We can’t help it. But maybe I agree with Jer? Lay off the relationships. Doesn’t mean you can’t do the horizontal mambo with whoever you want.”

“Dee!” I laugh. “Why do you have the worst names.”

She smirks behind her wine glass, probably considering it a win for making me laugh.

She stops herself early since she had to get back home and I carry the remains of the bottle to bed. Wine made me sleepy and just the same I knock out shortly after. And I don’t wake with a fright the next morning but as my dreams drift away I know they were crazy. This time I remember something about sticks. Random but I remember.

As I ride the tube to work I try to keep a reign on my hangover. I’d had plenty of water last night and popped some painkillers this morning yet my vision is blurry and everyone looks hazy around the edges.

I look to the woman sitting in front of me. She looked pleasant enough but there’s a ring of gray around her that bleeds into the pink of a little boy sitting next to her. His feet don’t quite hit the ground and they swish back and forth. It’s mesmerizing actually and I nearly miss my stop.

You’d think it gets better but the haziness stays the whole day. I should book an eye doctor too, I think somewhere in my brain. Whatever Lydia brought over last night was strong.

On Friday night Lydia invites me over to her place. She had a few friends over that was part of her couple group—her and partner Damon. And I hung out with them occasionally. With not much else to do I join them.

The week had been taxing and I’d had random bursts of feeling off throughout but I never got sick. Googling anything just told me I should rest, that I should expect a migraine after seeing these bursts of colours, that maybe I had a tumour. But nothing pans out.

“Ouch,” Damon says when he opens the door to me.

“That’s rude.” I shove the bottle I brought in his chest and move past him. I hear Lydia humming in her room and head straight to it.

“Something fucked up happened in the flat nex-“ She gasps when she sees me. “Y/N! Love are you alright!?”

“I’m fine—no I’m not. I think I’m going mad. Like proper mad.”

“No sit. Sit!” She pats her bed and kneels in front of me. “Damo can you get Y/N some water!?”

“Sorry. I wasn’t going to show. But I thought sitting in my flat would be worse-“

“Are you sick?” She lays a hand on my forehead. “Your temp’s alright.”

“I’m not sick! The doctor’s won’t prescribe me anything because I’m not anything! I’ve just had the shittiest sleep of my life the last week, I keep getting these weird migraine symptoms without the migraines, and I keep thinking I see something in the corner of my eye and I don’t! Nothing’s there!”

That was something that was new yesterday. Shapes moving around me but when I look everything is normal and still.

“Fuck!” Damon walks into the room just as the glass he’s holding breaks. “What the-“

“Nobody move!” Lydia screeches and I am so on edge I nearly scream at her to quiet down. “Damon what the actual fuck!?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t drop it it literally combusted in my hand.”

“You were probably squeezing it!” Dee accuses him.

“It was probably after getting one look at her,” Damon points to me. I flip him off and lay back onto the bed. I couldn’t even offer any help to pick up the glass.

I take a deep breath in, and out. In. And out.

I drift off, I imagine myself in the clouds, drifting through the air. I imagine a clean gust of air flowing into my lungs. And then out.

When I finally come back to reality Damo is emptying the glass into the bin and Lydia is dragging a wet rag across the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I sit up. “I should help.”

“No.” Damon holds his hand up at the same time Lydia does. “Just go to sleep if you need it. Just don’t worry about this. Or the party. Seriously y/n.”

“Yeah,” Dee puts her hands on her hips. “We’re worried about you. Just take it easy.”

“I feel a bit better. I just needed a moment. Riding the tube had been sensory overload lately.”

“Stay in our guest bed tonight,” Dee offers, glancing at Damon who nods. “Change of scenery.”

As Lydia’s friends arrive I take my spot amongst them. I engage in light catching up, I wasn’t against socializing but tonight I mostly listen.

I try to ignore the way the room changes around the people who talk. Sometimes it feels comforting and orange and other times the temperature drops and it feels like everything is metallic. It sounded mental but that’s how it felt.

The more I drink the more the colours come back.

Lydia’s is like a sunset and as the night goes on it deepens. Damon’s is like Christmas lights, red bleeding into a deep green.

A few friends have similar colours, others complement each other’s. I wonder for a brief moment if anything I ate had pot but nobody says anything.

As the company loosens, I step outside for a smoke.

Halfway through one, I hear the door open behind me and close.

“Doing that again?”

I turn to the familiar face. Sean, I’d known him since final year at uni. We’d been casual friends but with him being Damon’s brother we interacted frequently enough it was more than casual with how much we knew about each other but we weren’t friends enough to ever hang out alone. He’s actually how Damon and Dee met.

“I’m gonna stop.”

“Like always.”

“If you followed me out here to judge me I’m good.”

“I didn’t. I just got here and I saw you alone outside.” He walks up next to me. He brings with him warmth and even though it’s not too cold outside I can’t help but savour it.

“You got here late.” I comment. “You want one?”

“I quit last year y/n.” He reminds me.

“So did I,” I say wryly. He cracks a smile, it’s toothy. The same smile he’s always had.

“One of my friends had a kid a few weeks ago. I was dropping some food off, ended up staying too long.”

“Wow. A kid huh?” I knew people my age—hell, people younger than me, were settled with children. I just couldn’t imagine it.

“Yeah.” He blows air out of his cheeks. “When he first told me he was pregnant I actually said What are you gonna do?!”

“Oh shit,” I look at him. “Was he upset?”

“He thought it was funny,” he glances back to me. “I forget we’re closer to 30 than 20 these days.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sean brushes his hair back, he tended to grow it out and then surprise everyone and shave it every so often. I wondered when the next surprise would be.

The longer I look at him the more his edges light up. It’s a deep blue, it blends into the night but when he steps back against the balcony doors it’s easier to see. It spreads outwards into a purple.

Sean glances back into the house and back to me.

“Are you thinking it’ll be those two next?”

“Huh?” I realize it looks like I was looking inside rather than around him. “Oh. Those two? Maybe not next but soon.”

“She keeps pushing the wedding date. Settling on one I mean.” Sean says. I raise my brow and he explains. “My brother told me. What’s up with that?”

A ripple of something flows through me. It aches a little. I step back to a chair and sit down.

I think about everything I knew about Lydia. I knew why. We all had childhood problems—her mum was trapped in her relationship with Dee’s dad and the Lydia I knew told me she would never sign a contract to keep a relationship. It had surprised the hell out of me when she said yes a couple years ago. But I guess she was now coming around to realizing she would have to give up the one thing she swore she’d never do.

“Damon probably knows about Dee’s parents,” I say. “Maybe tell him to jog his brain a little. Put the pieces together.”

Sean chokes out a laugh. “Okay. Whatever that means. Hey what about you? What happened to office guy?”

“That’s over,” I say.

“Shit. I’m gonna grab a drink first. Then I want to hear about it.”

“There’s nothing to…” Sean’s gone before he can hear me out. I sigh. I came out here to be alone.

I look out to the view, I would never get tired of this city. Its streets ran through me like my veins. I loved it here.

I can see the train going past and I think of the people on it. People with so many different colours.

I hear sniffling and look to the door but Sean’s still not back.

I turn to the divider behind me. It sounded like it was coming from there. I inch back and it’s distinct. Someone on the other side of this balcony was crying.

“Hello?” I call out. But they don’t respond. Oh god, what was neighbourly etiquette? Do i acknowledge it or ignore it?

Wait. I wasn’t even a neighbour here.

I walk to the edge and lean over so I can get a look into the balcony. I was right. A woman with cropped hair and a pantsuit on cries into her hand.

“Hey, sorry I don’t mean to intrude but-“

I gasp when she looks up at me. So does she. Her eyes are pools of black. Or it looks that way in the light. She swivels her head behind her but there’s nobody there. She looks back to me and points to herself.

“Yeah! You!” I laugh. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Are you safe?”

“I-“ she takes a step back. “Who-“

“I don’t live here. Sorry i know I’m being nosey,” I let her know. “I just heard you crying and-“

“I’m not okay,” the woman has a thick accent. It sound Baltic. “How do you see me?”

“Uhh,” I try to make sense of her question and answer, hoping I didn’t lose it in her translation. “You look sad. You’re crying obviously you’re sad I just-“

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“I stay here or I move on. I’m scared.”

“Oh. Move on like move out? Where are you moving?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know

“Well where are the people you love? Who love you?” I always imagined leaving this city, this country. Build a life far away. But every time it came back to being close to the few I loved or not. And every time I chose them.

“Here.” She sniffles. “In the end I wanted to stay.”

“If it matters to you, I’d vote stay. But I also don’t know your life so-“

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” I whip my head to the sound of my name. Sean closes the door behind him, two beers in hand, concern etched into his face.

“Are you…talking to someone?”

“Oh yeah,” I whisper. “The woman there seemed upset.”

I lean over again to apologize but she’s gone. Damnit.

“Nevermind. She left.”

“Are you fucking with me? There was a woman there?” Sean asks.

“Yeah! I just wanted to make sure she was alright.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear? About next door?”

“What?”

“The woman next door attempted…yknow. To end her life. But since we’re on the second floor it…she’s like, in the hospital now. On life support.”

“What?” My heart sinks. Lydia was saying something fucked up when I walked in. Is that what it was? “Maybe that was her sister crying? Or her lover?”

“No it’s empty. It’s got tape all over it until police clear it.”

My heart sinks even lower. I feel it like a lead weight. Who was the woman I was talking to?

“Anyway tell me about your tragedy,” Sean hands me a beer and I take it, my mind still reeling from the news.

“Um. It’s not really one. The relationship fizzled out.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Well what about you? Last Christmas I heard you were dating a hot goth?”

“Who said that? Damo?”

“Maybe? So?”

“No! I brought her to a party but it wasn’t serious. And she wasn’t a goth. Just wore all black jeez.”

I laugh and the colours on the edge of Sean melt into pink. It’s a pretty sight even if it’s just in my head.

“I haven’t been all that lucky in love,” Sean sighs. He glances back inside. “But I look at my brother and think if he can find it I can too.”

It makes me laugh. Sean and I have always teamed up to shit on Damo for no other reason than it was fun. I never had siblings growing up and the dynamic, I imagine, felt like one.

“Do you see kids in the future?” He asks out of nowhere.

“Woah. Um. I don’t know. I can’t imagine it honestly, with the childhood I had…”

Sean nods. “I think you’d actually understand exactly what a child would need. I think you’d be good raising a child.”

“Maybe,” I shrug. “I think I’m also going insane so right now it’s a no.”

He chuckles. “Was that part of your insane bit? Talking to a ghost next door?”

When he says the G word a shiver travels down my spine. I remember the stranger seemed surprised I was talking to her.

No. It couldn’t be. I didn’t even believe in ghosts. The police must have lifted the tape. It was her relative or something.

“I think I’m a little drunk.” I change the subject.

“How are you getting home?” Sean asks.

“Might crash here. I…I think I’m actually going inside now.”

“Oh-oh yeah okay,” Sean steps aside so I can walk past him. He was like a human furnace with how warm he was. I leave him outside and head straight to the guest room. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t want to worry my friends or do something crazy. The woman next door freaked me out too much.

I grab my jacket and purse and sneak out, texting Lydia an apology once I start walking home.

I thought about taking the train but I couldn’t handle the people. If I walked for a half hour there was a bus that was 10 minutes to my flat.

So I walk in the quiet night, interrupted by the occasional car or group of friends. I spot a fox as I walk and keep to my side of the street. I watch the silhouettes of the trees move gently in the light breeze, I watch as squares of light flick on or off as its inhabitants live their lives. I feel apart of it and outside of it.

I’ve always viewed the world this. I always feel I was this way—apart of something bigger but also on the periphery. Maybe it was growing up in the foster system, or simply always wearing my armour in order to survive. All I ever wanted was people. People to call all my own. Where I was so deep into something bigger that I never questioned where I stood.

Nearly to the bus stop I hear a familiar tune in the air. My palms go clammy as I follow it. I know where I was going to end up. But I was in a completely different part of town. So it was actually impossible.

And there it is. The Good Folk.

What the fuck was this sorcery.

The cherry on top: standing outside arguing with a woman was Harry.

My feet lead me without a single thought in my head.

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