A/N: This story is a collaboration between myself and betteroblivions - find our tumblrs in my bio ✨
This is not a love story, but love is in it. That is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in.
Lighthousekeeping, Jeanette Winterson
Track List:
Helpline Operator, The The
Leave Here, Jacques Greene
Border Line, King Krule
Fingerbib, Aphex Twin
Under My Thumb, The Rolling Stones
Little Freak, Harry Styles
Alrighty Aphrodite, Peach Pit
~
April, 2018
The washed-out blue stain of evening light is drawing itself across London. If it weren't for the reminder text from Lydia, Ray would still be at her desk. She loves it when the office is empty and she has the space to herself. But Lydia was dictatorial: if Ray got there later than eight, she would be excommunicated for the evening. Although Ray highly doubts Lydia's follow through on that particular threat - Lydia has never really exorcised any personality from her life, not exes and certainly not friends - she nevertheless leaves her office dead on seven. It should take less than an hour to get up to the address that Lydia sent her, although God knows why they're heading this far North. It's miles out from their usual stomping ground, closer to Ray's childhood home. And she knows Lydia and their friends have absolutely no reason to go gallivanting in Harlesden, unless an up-market restaurateur decides to finally gentrify the area. Ray pulls a face as she checks the address again; it's across the river and in the opposite direction from her flat. She marches past the crowds pouring out of Borough Market and crosses the road, straight into London Bridge station and down the escalators.
When she eventually makes it to the house hosting their entertainment for the evening, she's surprised to see something so architectural. It stands out from the rest of the street, not the bland mansion flat she's come to expect from the friends of her friends. But she knows she's in the right place. The musky, heavy scent of weed carrying through the air is confirmation enough. She fires off a text to Lydia, and another into the group chat for good measure.
Here before 8. Let me in and give me a drink.
Blaise's reply is instant: omw raymundo.
She rolls her eyes at the nickname but quickly finds herself enveloped in Blaise's arms, the door left open while he greets her. His dark hair has been cropped short, boyish and juvenile. She runs her hand through it as he rocks her side to side in the doorway.
"Ray! You made it!" He mumbles it into her shoulder and she laughs in spite of herself. He smells like clean sheets and lemony shampoo. In the dusky half-light he looks elfin and beguiling, and Ray wonders, not for the first time, if there's a secret partner hidden in the labyrinth of Blaise's life. She wouldn't put it past him to keep such things quiet, although for as long as she's known him he has never introduced a romantic interest to the Gordian knot of their friendship group.
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐰. ⁽⁽⁽ᵐᵃᵗᵗʸ ʰᵉᵃˡʸ⁾⁾⁾
FanfictionMatty can't stand Ray, he knows that much. But he admires her. And he finds her devastatingly attractive. And she surprises him at every turn. And he feels an inexplicable urge to catch her when she falls. And, in his moments of weakness, she even b...
