THE SECRETS WE KEEP.

- THE SENTIMENTAL QUESTION. (PART 1).

hey everybody, long time no see! i'm officially back from my much-needed break but there will be a few changes to uploads. instead of publishing every saturday, as soon as a chapter is finished, it will be published the next day. this also means that updates will be random, not scheduled! if there is multiple parts, it may take a little longer but it will be published one after another in terms of days. i'm hoping that this schedule will provide me with a lot less pressure and stress than i was once under with this book, i do wish to get it completed by the end of the summer! i hope you've all been well, ill be back tomorrow with the second part of this story :)

—
DIANNES POV:
Shattering of hotel artifacts - 'clashes' and 'clatters' booming their pronounce of acute intensity throughout the enclosed square - receiving the plummet to their premature disposal against the velvety yet terminating carpet covering and mutterings of adult language unsuitable within earshot of the younger generation revived me from that fantasy planet of competition wins and trophies galore back to the actuality of my life - enwrapped by quilted sheets in a hypothermia-risk UK town, that dreamland instantly a million miles away unable to return to. My arm braved the immediate cold front inevitably by escaping from the comforting warmth blankets provided to grasp my third arm lifeline from the beside table; however the rectangular illumination, illustrating the outline silhouette of my family upon the ceiling, created an prompt irritation to my significantly heavy to raise and fuzzy of memory head - last nights celebrations accountable for this migraine.

After painful seconds enabling the radiance to settle its vigour onto my impaired vision, I tilted my head a 180 degree turn to awaken the slumbering beauty lay next to me, the nuisance early bird trait in an internal catastrophe over the late arise from our pits. But this swift peek was confronted by the harsh observation of an empty delve, that smile driven by the consuming heart flutters disappearing forwith at the disappointing reality of abandonment. Despite my dormant state, a memory of domesticated sweetness a couple hours prior flooded back alike a river's dam dismantling to scrap pieces by the strong water currents, a considered fond memory to cherish even in the time of unconscious. The sun had hardly reached daybreak, hidden behind the glazed sky creating this mysterious mist that settled amongst the city, providing this town of utter innocence with its very own spooky edge. Our cuddle's tight grip made the task of movement almost impossible, for the hard surface of his chest was pressed close-fit to my back for us to remain close at all times. Defeating all odds, Joe managed to shuffle out of the spooning session, venturing into the frigid atmosphere created through low heating. At that time, there was a half-and-half decision over whether I would be considered awake, however the perfect opportunity dropped neatly in the groove of my palms to drift slowly back into that picture perfect universe and encounter the unique set of personas mastered within my own brain. As I allowed its control to overpower my body, I awaited the jumpy feeling of his arm spooning around my waist after his quick toliet break. While there is a disheartening realisation of a partnerless society, this moment felt as though the romantic connection evident between us had transformed into a relationship of true labels.

In the direction of the ruckus an amicable figure travelled steadily around the corner, his fingers clasping the handles of a tray while his stride remained steady - the silver platters were heaping with continendal baked goods and sugary treats, all to blame for the adult tooth rotting but still edible with ease for a breakfast meal. Just this reminder of his presence, the existent knowledge that at the first opportunity he had not neglected me, settled my heart comfortably in my chest. "Well, isn't this a surprise?" my voice carried across the short distance, the disturbance against the silence clearly startling him on the spot for during his dander, I had woken up. Excitement was bubbling up inside of me, alike a child of Christmas morning recalling the significance of this day - the successful beginning involving a delicious breakfast with the man who had stolen my heart, proceeding to the performance in Blackpool Tower. "Good morning to you too, Buswell," his tight-lipped smile, disguising his teeth, rendered my heart into a puddle of utter gloop in the pit of my stomach. "You look beautiful in the morning.." beneath the gentle kiss, he whispered a smooth compliment that he understood would be unfeasible to deny.