VIII

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"This is something I didn't miss about my twenties."

They're out discovering the London nightlife, much to Mila's displeasure. Lydia wanted to be out and about and in the world and Pash didn't want to join in.

Lydia prefers Mila's company anyway.

Mila clearly isn't excited by the amount of strangers bumping into her on the street, but Lydia loves being a part of the masses, blending in and being just another face in the crowd. Especially if she does so alongside Mila - she makes everything better.

"You're twenty-six," Lydia argues. "You can't throwback to an age you still are."

Mila scoffs, her arm swinging harshly as she dramatically pulls herself away from Lydia. "You can't call me old and then be mad when I do the same thing."

"Sure I can."

Walking down Kingly Street, no matter the time of year, feels like a breeze in June, gentle and refreshing. It takes away the heat of the real world and brings complete and utter comfort. Simply making their way through the crowded street makes Lydia want nothing more than to make the moment last forever, to bask in the tranquility and prolong the feeling of absolute contentment.

Lydia steadfastly ignores the way that every few paces, Mila's pinky will hit Lydia's wrist or graze her thumb. The urge to hold her hand is overwhelming and Lydia's near shaking with the restraint to keep her from doing so. "What are you going to do when you turn thirty?"

"Shrivel up and die," Mila jokes, her tones taking a far more theatrical twist than usual. "I bite my thumb at the idea that I'll ever be content to be old."

"Really?" Lydia slows her gait, side-eyeing Mila in shock. "You don't have dreams of growing old with your soulmate?"

Mila smiles, but it looks private, a gentle beautiful, intimate smile that Lydia can't bare to look at. She feels guilty catching even the small glance she did see. "Well of course I do. My heart isn't actually stone, you know."

"Well that's good news." Lydia tries to add a teasing edge to her voice, something to keep the conversation light and playful. She doesn't want to show just how much Mila's goddamn smile can melt her into a lovesick puddle. "Sometimes I wonder, you know? You're often so cold and callous that I doubt you've any heart at all."

"You do not," Mila squawks, reaching a hand to shove Lydia's shoulder lightly, not hard enough to send her careening into other pedestrians on the pavement, just enough to make her displeasure in Lydia's joke clear. "I'm perfectly wonderful all the time. I'm a blessing to have around."

"I'm not too sure about that."

She's very sure about that.

They start to walk into an area that's far more clustered, where all of the restaurants keep their doors open and the lines flood out of them and take up half the pavement. Mila huddles in closer and Lydia hopes the crowd is loud enough to tune out the sound of her excited heart.

"Are you hungry?" Mila asks as they're squeezing through the minimal available space. "You want a slice of pizza?"

"Uh... yeah, yeah." Lydia quickly agrees and allows Mila to pull her to a stop in one of the lines. "Let me buy this time though."

Mila sighs, and Lydia slyly smiles at the way Mila takes care of her. "Lydia, really, it's no trouble. You're working part-time and living in London. I can take care of this."

"Mila, it's seven pounds." Lydia feels a bit ridiculous fighting over which one of them will pay for the food from the small pizzeria, but the idea that this is the fight they're having is beautiful. It's so simple and it shows that they both care about each other. Lydia can't stop grinning. "I'm not going to go bankrupt from a few slices of pizza."

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