Hot Cappuccino Boy - BxB (COMPLETE)

Chapter 35

I find myself in the East End with a lot of time on my hands. Me, too much in a hurry? Oh, come on.

Of course, I am!

Aden texted me that morning that he was going to be stuck in meetings till 11:00, so there's no point in waiting for him and standing in front of his building. Okay, I'm his boyfriend, but no need to look desperate to see him. Even if that's the case.

So, I decide to take a walk around the streets of the neighbourhood - if you can call this part of London a neighbourhood. Like everywhere else in the city, everything is larger than life. I always laugh at tourists who ask me, back in the coffee shop, about "How to get there" and the famous "How long is it going to take?"

Of course, I tell them to take the tube or the bus, but there are always people who choose to walk. I'd like to see their heads and especially the state of their feet after a whole day walking up and down the capital! Well, on second thoughts – scratch that, I don't want to see any of it.

I happily breathe in the undoubtedly polluted air of my beloved city. Yes, I'm crazy, so what? I love this city, whether in winter, the rain never stopping for days on end or in summer, when the ozone peak breaks another record.

Yeah, when you put it like that, it doesn't make you dream, but who cares? London isn't just a pretty glossy postcard or a top ten attraction tour. You have to accept everything in this city: its bricks soiled over the centuries, its congested pavements, its crowded tube at rush hour.

Because if you accept that, you see its true beauty.

The delicate line of a wrought-iron arch over the heads of the commuters.

A funerary inscription in homage to a young girl who lived here in Roman times, at the foot of a skyscraper.

This city is a permanent contrast, a continuous jump in time, an alternation of frenetic agitation, as in Piccadilly Circus, and of silence that welcomes you when you stray from the main avenues and take the small alleys, leading you to hidden treasures.

And it's all the more striking in the East End. I stroll along Brick lane, zigzagging between groups of tourists led by Blue badge guides, refusing with a smile the offers of restaurant owners who promise me the best curry in the world. I wonder if Aden has ever been here, if he has ever dined in one of his establishments, if he has ever taken the time to admire the pieces of street art blooming on the walls above our heads.

If he hasn't, I could show him. This certainly brings a very silly smile to my lips, but I'm starting not to care.

Now it's my turn to show him something, for a change.

I imagine us strolling along the winding streets of the East End, examining the contents of the stalls along Petticoat Lane, in the shade of the City's skyscrapers, perhaps kissing once or twice in the dark corners that still abounds in this part of London, in spite of the sudden as well as radical transformation that has taken place here since the 19th century.

We could get lost in the crowds at the Spitalfields market, browse the trendy shops, have a drink at the Ten Bells, or admire this very special building, which has become a church, synagogue or a mosque over the centuries.

And if Aden doesn't like any of this, that's okay, he and I can reach a compromise. That's the way it works, isn't it?

In the meantime, here comes noon. I've got a picnic to enjoy, a boyfriend to find and above all, a lock to turn.

☕️☕️☕️

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