the bright glow from my phone screen makes it increasingly hard to see the ground beneath me, but i squint as i receive a a text anyway, not worrying about the rest of the world.
'what's england like?' clay's message reads, and i frown as i almost stumble over my feet. he's never been here before? this thought leads me into wondering if clay would've joined me if we weren't arguing back then, maybe we'd be here together, scouring the backstreets of london.
a few ideas pop into my mind, and tell myself i should bring him here when we're friends again. we could go a concert together at the huge arena, or ice-skating. there's a lot of stores here, we could mess around in some of those. i'd sit in the trolley as he pushes me around and it'd be fun. we could travel around london, meeting all my old friends and he could meet my family too.
i contemplate ways i should answer his message but settle on, 'cold.' perhaps this would also hint that i'm still a little upset over our argument- how harsh his words were. i shake my head, forming a new message, 'want me to bring you back a souvenir?'
scratching my head, i watch the bubbles float as he types, 'no need. you are the souvenir.'
a giggle escapes my lips as i read his message a few times over. unsure of how to respond, i set my phone back down as i begin to make my way through a market which is beginning to close. i admire the bursts of colour as pretty bright lights are hung all around the different stools and shops. i wander into one, a handmade jewellery shop. a smile meets my lips and i look through the various different things on sale.
i manoeuvre my way through, in awe at the beautiful things on sale. i make eye contact with the guy behind the counter, and i nod at him as i carry on looking at the items.
as i head out, a necklace catches my eye. on it, hangs a green emerald-type crystal. i grin, picking it up and taking it to the guy behind the register. we make small talk as he bags it, and i pay, happy with the purchase. i leave the store, stuffing the bag into my coat pocket and continuing my way through the market.
i glance at my phone, noticing it's almost 11pm. the cold air suddenly grows colder, and it nips my exposed face uncomfortably. i shove my hands in my pockets, and decide to start my journey back to my parents' house, as it's where i've been staying while in england. i step out onto a new street, turning around the corner and start heading back. i walk across a road, stopping next to an idle taxi before letting myself in. one of the perks of this part of london is that there are taxis all over. especially on this main street, which i'm thankful for.
i take a seat, soaking up the warmth of the car. i exhale deep, and pull my numb hands from my pockets, rubbing them together. the journey's a little long, so i grab my phone to occupy my brain.
my brows crease into a frown as my phone displays a few miscalls from clay. i wonder temporarily if something might've happened to him, however his recent message to me eases my worry.
'are we done arguing yet? i wanna hear your voice'
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word count: 610
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coffee stains || dreamnotfound
Romancedipping my head to his level, i whisper, "do you want me in the ways i want you?" when george moves to florida, the last thing he expects is his life to collide with the tall stranger living opposite. lowercase intended.
