A/N: Only a few more chapters, lovelies xxx
48.
{Genesis' P.O.V.}
I made an effort to keep my room tidy as I packed up my suitcase yet again. One thing I never could do was leave for anything with an unmade bed. In dark skinny jeans and a maroon and white baseball top, I folded up those few articles of clothes I'd worn and added them to my case.
I checked out the covers on the window, seeing the morning rain-soaked back garden. I was hoping for better weather but I wasn't at all surprised. Maybe it would be better in London.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail at the crown of my head, it curly as it came down my back. Humming to myself for no apparent reason, I grabbed my navy beanie with a Manchester United logo on it and threw it to my suitcase as I checked over my makeup. It wasn't much, just liquid eyeliner with soft wings and mascara. Thinking it was good, I pulled on a pair of socks and checked the time.
Of course he's still sleeping at 10.
I left my room, the house left with only us as Mum was at work. Going down the upstairs hall, I lightly knocked on the guest bedroom door. Pushing it open a crack, I poked my head in.
Dylan was on the edge of his bed, the sheets just as messy as his hair. He smiled, looking up with eyes that were still slightly squinting against the light. "Morning."
"Morning." I said, letting door open as I leaned in the doorway. "How's the jet lag treating you?"
"Like it always does. Worse going over than it does coming back." Dylan reach out, taking my arm so I wasn't so far away. "It'll wear off though. I fly too much for it to do any real harm on me."
"Well that's good then." I replied, coming nearer to him.
"What's the plan for today?" He asked, getting a cheeky grin on him before quickly grabbing the back of my legs and pulling me down. With my level to him, he laughed. "Plan or no?"
I only smiled, putting my hands on his shoulders but letting myself stay on his lap. "Drive to London, probably stop at a Tesco's so you can experience that, then we'll go to the hotel and I'll take you sightseeing."
"Y'know, i've been to London before."
"Not like this. You've done the touristy version." I countered him, "You're with me. I know places that American's wouldn't know how to get into."
"I'm intrigued."
"That's the point." I ran my hand over his hair, trying to tame it as well as I could without product. "So, I'll get the car packed and you can come down whenever you're ready. If we time this right we'll miss most of traffic."
When I was about to move to get up, Dylan pulled on my hips so I couldn't. "Or..."
"Seriously, in my guest room?" I asked with a judging eyebrow, Dylan pressing his lips against my neck.
"What, your mom isn't home, is she?" He smiled, kissing my jaw between words. "I'm kidding, Gen." He quickly pecked my lips, "I'll get ready."
I put my hands on either side of his face, kissing him one more time before getting up. "London's waiting for you, Dylan." I said in a sing song voice, shutting his door as I left.
The house was oddly silent, but it was sort of nice. After moving out of London a couple of years ago I couldn't get enough of it.
I went back into my room, zipping up my fully packed suitcase after putting my makeup bag into it. I took it off of my bed, proceeding to grab my army style coat, slip into it and put on my H&M ankle boots. Halfly checking my phone, I carried my case and leather shoulder bag downstairs and outside to the front garden.
Brisk air encircling me, I popped open the boot of my mondeo and stuck my case inside. I sighed, glancing around and shutting it.
"God, I hope this goes well."
***
"And we're home free." I took Dylan's hand, the mid afternoon sky of London bright a blue and thankfully, void of rain clouds. We got out the back door of the hotel, given special access to it by the manager.
"Do you have a game plan, blondie?" Dylan asked, letting me go out of the gate first before shutting it behind us.
"Blondie, huh? We're getting all sorts of nicknames from this trip." I replied, looking both ways. "We grabbed Tesco's make shift lunch so we can hold off in the pub, but if you like we can do typical touristy things like Big Ben with Parliament and the Eye or there's things the museums and aquariums. It's your pick."
"Let's go with a museum." Dylan said, pushing a pair of raybans up the bridge of nose. "And shouldn't you be wearing sunglasses too?"
"Natural History or Science?" I took us to the left, heading for the closest tube station entrance. "And the sunglasses make you more likely to get looked at. It's November, Dyl."
"Natural History." Dylan answered, adding his own retort. "And plenty if people wear sunglasses year round."
"Yeah, pedophiles." I replied, taking him down the staircase clogged with a stream of people. "We need Oyster cards."
Perpetually confused and at the same time trying to take all of his surrounds in, he blindly followed me with his finger still locked with mine. "A what?"
"Tube card. It's how you get in and out of stations to get on the trains." We got to a dispenser and I pulled out my credit card for a bank that only functioned out of London. "They're refillable. You can use them for all London transport. Even the buses take them." I swiped my credit card, Dylan hovering so he didn't get caught up in the constant movement of people.
Dylan evaluated the blue card I handed him, "So, they work like transport debit cards?"
"Basically. There's fourty on each for now. It'll go a long way." I put my wallet back into my purse but kept out the newest card. I grinned at his expression, "You'll survive."
"Do you think we'll get recognized?" He quietly asked, coming up to the tolls. He copied my actions of sliding my oyster card and going through the rotating bars.
"Probably." I checked both lines, talking to myself. "We need South Kensington, so if we take Central..." I took Dylan's hand again, "Come on, this way."
"Okay, you sounded exactly like Mrs. Weasley in the first Harry Potter movie." He grinned, stepping on the tube with me.
I smiled, only shaking my head. "We could go there too. The Harry Potter studios where they filmed the movies."
"I did last time I was here."
"Good because i've already been twice." I smiled up at him, holding onto a handle bar hanging from the ceiling.
Dylan only grinned, "Of course you have."
The atmosphere in the tube was something I'd grown incredibly used to as a kid, due to the fact i took it to school every morning for years on end with Tanner, eventually splitting up due to the non co-ed schools we attended.
But today it was much different. Not just a two year different, different, but instead was one I'd not experienced before.
Dylan seemed to be the opposite, because he was well aware people were starting to look. The way he regarded everything as nothing made it simple, because he was trying not to make eye contact or assure he would get called out by the whole car.
One thing I knew for sure was that things like privacy and personal space were much nicer in any country but America. We would never get into a situation like this in the US only in fear of getting trampled, but here the people on the tube were discrete about taking pictures and only smiled if we looked. No one asked for a photos, but a few said simple 'hellos' that we responded to lightly.
It was a much more survivable pace.
***
Dylan, although incredibly American, adapted to England incredibly well. He was willing to try any food or drink and there weren't many things he was against.
We'd met a few fans in the museum and a couple more in the Sherlock exhibit at 221b Baker Street. They were all so nice and never once over stepped. A larger amount spotted us across the street, waving or going completely still in their spot while covering their mouths.
It was when we got to a particular hell that Dylan personally requested to see.
"You went to school in a church?" Dylan looked up, his sunglasses hanging on the collar of his shirt. He shielded his eyes, a slightly confused smile on his face.
"It's a retired cathedral, but yes." I told him, the pair of us at the wrought iron gates guarding the private school.
Dylan quickly looked down to me, "Do you want to go inside?"
"Oh, hell no. I hated this place, so much." I took his arm, "But there was a place that I liked more than anything. Come on, it's not too far from here."
"How long did you live in London, Gen? You don't really talk about it." Dylan let me loop my arm with his, the two of us crossing the street between red lights.
"About twenty years, including college at Oxford so I guess closer to nineteen or eighteen."
"Oh wow, really?" He nodded with the light sense he was impressed, "Where are we going?"
"Just a short cut." Walking through a back alley between buildings, we came out on the opposite side of the school. "This is the place."
"Thames Tales. Coffee, Pages and Love."
"Best bookshop I've ever been too." I smiled up at the sign of dark blue wood and maroon, "I used to come here everyday after school. My brother's school got out two hours after I did so i'd been in here among the books forever."
"It's closing." Dylan observed, pointing to a small yellow sign in the window. "Starting in January."
"What?" My heart fell, "Why would they do that?"
"How about we ask?" He pushed open the shop door, it crammed between two different, bigger stores that were apart of chains. He held it open for me, offering a way inside. "After you."
I would've faked a curtsy but my heart was too heavy. If this place closed it would kill me.
I went into the shop, the memories swirling around as the familiar scent of coffee greeted us. "God, I missed this place."
A man, decked with a nice beard and black framed glasses in his late thirties, stood at the head of the shop. Situated at the front of his desk, he took off his glasses as he looked towards the door. He furrowed his eyebrows, "Bloody hell."
"I'll take a look around." Dylan quietly said in my ear, our grips releasing as he moved off to the aisles of packed books.
I gave a soft nod, letting him leave. I walked towards the wooden counter that looked like an elongated podium. "Harry?"
"What on earth are you doing here, Genesis?" Harry, who was the eldest son of the original owner of Thames Tales, saw me more than anything as a kid while he shadowed his father's work.
"I'm on holiday."
"Don't you live in America or something now?" Harry leaned his elbows on the counter, a smile on his face. "You seem to be all the talk when it comes to coffee shops and book stores. Anyone who knows anything about literature knows about you."
"Yeah, I live in California. I'm actually here with my boyfriend from the US. It's an American holiday so he had some time off and I did too from uni." I motioned behind me, "Are you really closing the shop?"
Harry nodded a little sadly, "My dad passed away last year and i've been trying to keep the place open but it's just not working out."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
"Well," Harry lightly said, "It has been closer to three years since you've been in London, so I'd imagine you wouldn't have heard." He ran his hand through his hair, "I'm sad to let the place go. I know you loved it." He snapped his fingers, remembering something. "By the way, this seemed to come just in time. We might even have some of it in stock before we have to sell out."
I lifted an eyebrow, watching Harry turn around and remove something from his stocks below. "What have you got?" I opened up my purse, removing a thin black book from its depths. As he dug, I took out a pen and scribbled along the rectangle.
Harry was next to lift an eyebrow at me as I slid it across the counter before he could show me what he had. "What's that?"
"A simple donation." I replied with a smile, "Your turn."
Harry only laughed, surprised by the number. He held up the small poster, "How about an autograph, Gen?" He teased, setting it down facing me. "I knew that all of those days you spent around here would make you a natural contender in the novel community."
"I wouldn't exactly say a contender." I told him, using the same pen to signed the poster for Dalliance.
"Oh, I would. This thing is going to be big, Genesis. Colossal big."