CHAPTER 5: ...Canon Street, UK - September

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"...and then Steph looked at me and asked me where the schematics were." He's carrying me around, looking disheveled and cute while getting ready for work.

I sigh. "Were they under your chair?"

Murph looks at me with pursed lips and taps his nose. "...yes." I get a lovely view of his closet as he sifts through the clothes. "Apparently, you know everything."

I roll my eyes. "No, I just know you."

"Which is worse? Knowing me or knowing everything?" Murph smirks and puts down his phone.

"Your ceiling is amazing." I see it at least five times a day when we call.

"Quiet, you. I'm putting on my tie."

"I keep telling you to just get a clip-on one."

"Those are gross." The camera moves and I see Murph again. "How do I look?"

Cute. He looks business cute. His hair's combed back and I just wanna mess it up. Murph's got new black glasses and they look too smart on him. They make his blue eyes stand out. But he's smiling and I see dimples so I just shrug. "You look ready for your first day of training at work."

"Yeah," he says, patting down a crease in his shirt. "Because, unfortunately, I don't have a uniform."

That was a jab at me. "Wow."

He smiles and looks to his left. "Okay, I gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

I nod. "Okay. Have a good time at work. Don't get too exhausted."

"No promises."

"Murph. Please."

He looks at me and sighs. "...I'll try, okay?"

"'kay."

He swallows. Murph looks like he's about to say something, but doesn't. "Okay, I'm off. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow." And the call ends.

I sigh and rub my eyes. The call says we've been talking for six hours, though it doesn't feel like it. I don't even remember what we talked about. Everything - from when Murph woke up with cute bedhead and a drool river out his mouth, getting breakfast, getting lunch, watching videos, talking about all his little side-projects, asking questions about what we wanted out of our future, and getting ready for work, hell, even talking while we went to the toilet - had made the day move faster.

I think what sucks the most is that I want to do actual shit with him. But if I don't have WiFi, I'm screwed.

That's when I realise I haven't really eaten at all today.

And it's almost seven at night.

Wow, I suck.

I head off towards the kitchen to find Steve sorting through mail at the kitchen table. He doesn't look at me. He just hears my door close. "You're awake," he says, sorting the mail on the table. "How's your boyfriend?"

My skin prickles and I don't know why. "Murph's fine. He just..." I open the refrigerator to see what's inside. "...heading out for work now." I don't remember what I came in to look for, so I close the door.

"Your boyfriend got a second job?" he asks, turning to me.

I blink. "He wants to move out, but doesn't have enough saved to do it."

Steve nods and goes back to the mail. We got a lot of junk. "Where's your boyfriend thinking of moving?"

"Why do you keep saying 'boyfriend'? He's got a name."

Steve put down the envelopes. "It's like me pinching myself," he says, enunciating. "Did you honestly think I'd ever see you in a relationship?"

He has a point. "N - "

"And a long distance one at that." He chuckles and walks towards me. "I wish you luck...er, deferred success." He shrugs and goes to the fridge for a beer.

I swallow whatever's in my mouth and fight the urge to punch him. He's used "deferred success" before and it makes me think that he thinks this'll all get fucked up again.

My stomach growls.

"Oh yeah. Food." I go back for the refrigerator. Nothing good's there. "I guess it's cereal again."

I take my dinner breakfast at the kitchen table, but Steve's moved to the couch. He falls asleep twenty minutes later and the television's still on.

I sigh.

It feels lonely now.

And the gnawing sense of something wrong bothers me hard. Like, I know Murph isn't here. And I've accepted that. He has to go to work. But that doesn't bother me. It's the fact that, not only is Murph 5 hours behind me, he's not

here.

There's something intoxicating about talking to him. It's this whirlwind, bouncing between everything important and nothing important at the same time. There's nothing that really compares to talking to him in person, either. No bad WiFi, no two schedules to keep, just...us in one spot.

Together.

My mind flashes back to when we docked in Southampton. Murph's hand's in mine as we head off the ship. He's grinning big and I'm so fucking satisfied because I'm the reason he smiled like that. He kisses me in a corner four times before whispering that he'll keep me posted on his travels home.

God, fuck, does that guy know how to kiss.

But that's the thing that irks me.

I have to see him.

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