London Psychos

or hard, but it feels comfortable. She lies down and faces the ceiling, feeling tiredness creeping up to her body like water rising in a river.

Herbert takes his wallet out of his jacket pocket and takes out a note. Its the note of leave he got from the hospital. He reads it carefully.

He suddenly realizes there is one clause that hes neglected to read… A transfer notice to London.

He looks down at Eleanor. Shes peacefully asleep, and her chest slowly rises and falls. He gently pulls her closer to him and wraps her in an embrace. His arms hold her close.

Herberts heart starts to beat faster and faster. She smells sweet, like lavender soap and chocolate milk.

Oh well, time to rest. Herbert tucks himself into bed.

His arms are warm around her, and he can feel her breathing against him. He rests his head on the pillow. Closing his eyes, he begins to fall asleep.

As per the schedule, the city starts rhythmically humming, reminding him of the ocean waves rhythm—the waves sounds lulling him to sleep. The temperature outside is almost freezing.

The air is thick with humidity, yet he knows it will rain soon; the clouds are already forming above him.

He feels peaceful as he lets himself drift into unconsciousness.

———————————————————————————————————-

The sound of his alarm wakes him up from his slumber. He groans loudly and tries to ignore the annoying noise. The room is dark. The curtains are drawn, and the sun isn shining through the window. He hears Eleanor muffled snoring. She sleeps soundly beside him, not having disturbed him during the night.

With one last glance at her, he gets up. He doesn bother to change clothes; instead, he picks up some trousers. As soon as he puts them on, he notices Eleanors hair lying all over the pillow. She has turned onto her side.

He steps toward the door but hesitates. Shouldn he wake her up first?

Before he decides, it was made for him as she hauls herself off the bed like clockwork.

She reaches for a shirt and starts pulling it over her head.

He bites his lip nervously, unable to avert his gaze. Should I say something? Or is she not ready to talk to me?