Lockdown on London Lane [PUBLISHED w/ WATTPAD BOOKS]

PART 6: Chapter 1 - Imogen

Hi everyone. Just a couple of things first: it wouldn't feel right to upload this right now without addressing the current situation in the US, UK, and elsewhere, because: Black lives matter. Wattpad have uploaded a piece in their News & Updates story with several resources, if you're still looking to educate yourself, donate, or support more Black creators. 

I also wanted to say - Happy Pride Month! Again on Wattpad's News & Updates, they've shared some resources, including a reading list from writers in the LGBTQ+ community.

And as another (rather more selfish) note from me - this story hit 250,000 reads today, which is absolutely incredible! Thank you, again, to everyone who's been reading. I was a little on the fence about whether to do a 'wrap-up' part of the story like this, but seeing you guys get so invested in the characters, I couldn't resist.

Part 6 is a little different, in that each chapter will revisit the protagonist of each short story so far (in order), now that the week is over and lockdown on London Lane has been lifted. I hope you all enjoy it!

It's already light out. There's a cold foot against mine, and heavy breath on the back of my shoulder. There's an arm tucked under my neck, wrapped around me. Sunshine pours in through the closed blinds and the mattress creaks as I shift, stretching and yawning.

I knock him in the arm with my elbow when I try to lift my arms, and Nate grumbles in his sleep, rolling onto his back. He scrubs the back of a hand over his mouth while I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

"Sorry," I say, my voice thick with sleep.

"S'okay." Nate yawns, noisily, and then his head tilts sideways so he can look at me through heavily-lidded eyes. "Morning."

"Morning," I say. I turn onto my side so I'm facing him, snuggling into his body. His arms wrap around me, hands cool against the bare skin of my back. It's nice, and it's cosy, and I let myself indulge in it for a minute before I remind him quietly, "It's Sunday."

Nate lets out a sigh so soft I barely even notice it. I don't think I would've, if he hadn't gotten that little frown on his face. It seems to wake him up a little, and his nose nudges against mine.

"I should go."

"Not yet," he says, and wraps one leg around me, too, as if to keep me from going anywhere. His lips find mine, and my eyes slide shut as I kiss him back.

I'm not exactly sure how this happened.

Nate had seemed like a great prospect for a one-night stand. He'd been easy to talk to, could take a joke, but he was still a pretty sensible-sounding guy. And both of us had been upfront: we weren't looking for a relationship.