7- Not a bloody Poet.

92 2 0
                                    

It had been five weeks.

Nash's birthday had been and went in a flurry of classes, new friends and stupidly- early to unnecessarily late Halloween celebrations.

Finn had forced her around seemingly every shop in London one raining October afternoon to pick out a gift for herself because she refused to tell him anything she had wanted.

She had also made three more friends. Fellow film student Mina, a short Desi girl she had met walking out of class one day. Mina always wore her long dark hair in intricate braids swept away from her face- to show off her new (every day different) hand crafted ear rings she made in her dorm. Beautiful blues and oranges (her favourites) dangling in beads to frame her face. Mina was always up for a party or a lively debate over hot coffee. She spoke very quickly with a slight accent from where her family had moved from the Bangladesh in the late 60s. She gave even Finn a run for his money when they spoke about the 'masterpiece' (in her opinion) that was 'Band of Thieves'. Finn adamantly disagreed. She never spoke much of her family back home other then to complain about missing her dad's cooking.

Then there was Luca, a quite, unassuming boy from Manchester. He was about six inches shorter then Nash with chestnut hair and extra large hands that made him a brilliant pianist. Finn had dragged him along to the cafe with the girls one day to escape yet another downpour of rain. Currently Finn was trying to recruit him for his band in music, still to less avail then he had hopped. Luca's northern accent was many a joking point for the rest of the group when they were all together, not as harsh as some others they had all heard but still a stand out feature. He unlike Finn was a big fan of classical composers, one of the only students in their class that Finn said, never dozed off during the more 'boring' lectures on Mozart or Bach.

Finally there was Max. Max was a bespectacled ball of energy. In his and Nash's dance class he had ran around the room on their first day exchanging 'hellos' and 'nice to meet yous' with every face he saw. When he had reached Nash the nervous and sometimes standoffish ravenette had (to her later regret) awkwardly brushed him off. But after being partnered for a pair piece of floor work the two got to chatting and eventually Max was able to crack the shell. He told Nash all about his family's farm back home in Wales, about how he had been in dance lessons since he was three and about how she had two siblings an older brother and a younger sister who annoyed him to no end. Nash's heart hurt at that, her own brothers playing at the back of her mind. Max was well builtfrom his life on the farm but was bubbling with untapped energy that often cam out in jittered movements and stacaoed little dances down london streets.

On Nash's birthday the five had unlocked a new kind of evening. With the five of them crammed into a booth in their favourite little pub exchanging slightly awkward laughs and smiles over cake and pints of Lukewarm beer.

"What a fantastic band name that would be ah Luca? 'Lukewarm beer'." Finn had nudged the other boy who nearly choked on his own pint, "I can already see it plastered all over the halls Finn." Mina had rolled her eyes and thrown a piece of her left over icing at him while MAx snorted into her Beer stine.

A load more photos had congregated on Finn's dorm room wall and in his guitar case. Nash didn't know but, most of them were of the two of them or of her when she was just being her absentmindedly happy self. He caught her secret smile all too often in two months.

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Living in London (A marauders era story)Where stories live. Discover now