To the streets, he was Reckless.
Short-tempered, hot-headed Reckless.
Yes, to the streets, he was Reckless.
But to her, he was Nehemiah.
And all they needed was each other.
𝕸𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆
𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙.
Previously titled All...
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"If I get a tardy, Talon owes me. Big time."
Tiegan's jaw clenches in frustration, her folded arms are rigid against her chest and the scowl on her face remains unwavering, as she glares at the buffering monitor hanging from the bus stop's roof by its last two nails. Her features are taut and stern this morning, owing to her foul mood and her slick bun. The attitude fanning off her being is almost tangible, so much so that the only other soul at the bus stop makes sure to keep a safe distance from her. The girl, much shorter and evidently younger than Tiegan and I, stands tucked into the corner, with one earphone in and the other draped over her shoulder, shooting the two of us wary glances any time either of us speak. Like Tiegan, I'm not feeling my greatest—but that's moreso due to the weather, not Talon's unreliability.
The dawn of winter has finally settled in London, evidenced by the morning's iciness and the carpet of grey shielding the streets from the sun. An eery fog hangs stagnant, cloaking anything further than a kilometer away in a cape of white. Each body lining the street is swaddled in thick coats and two layers of clothing at a minimum. If not for the bun wrapped at the peak of my head, my hood would be up and sheltering my ears from the bite of the cold, not that it would make much of a difference. The only thing I hate more than getting the bus to school, is getting the bus to school when the weather's this awful.
"We should've known he couldn't drop us off. He's incapable of waking up before 8 am," I chuckle. I bury my clenched fists deeper into my pockets, in an attempt to escape the harshness of this morning's cold. Tiegan slowly swivels in my direction, rerouting her scowl towards me.
