My bike wouldn't work. I mean the pedals span and the brakes were ship-shape, but my bike just would not move. The wheels were failing at their one job. So I was stuck, outside a furniture shop in London, with no way to get home, with winter's light drizzle coming to rain right down on my parade. Great.
"Son of a bitch!" I said to the world. Though there was no one around. Probably because everyone else's bikes work.
Tucked under my arm was a vintage lamp that I had purchased just thirty minutes ago. I was going to browse more but closing time was approaching and the beedy-eyed shop keeper was giving me daggers so -after asking for the lamp to be wrapped twice just in case it fell out of the basket of my bike and would escape with minimal damage- I quickly made my escape. Only to find the immovable wheels of my bike.
My only option was to leave the bike where it was. There was no way I was lugging it onto the tube along with my new antique lamp. I consider myself gullible, not stupid. I shrugged the fur-lined hood of my coat over my brown curls and proceeded to walk the slippery pavements of twilight London.
I kept my head down and hugged the lamp to myself. It was awkward and bulky to carry but envisioning the cosy light it would provide in my small flat was enough to keep me going. Ahead of me I could see the descending staircase leading to the train station entrance.
Once on the train I could breathe a sigh of relief. I guess I looked pretty odd. Sprinkled drops of rain throughout my hair, frizzing it and making me looked crazed. Not to mention my crazed self was clutching a lamp like her life depended on it. This was cause for another sigh. Of the what-am-I-doing kind.
I sent out a silent-curse for myself for not bringing headphones. Looking back, I noticed that I just tucked my phone and some bills into the back pocket of my jeans and then left. Silly, unprepared me. I closed my eyes, bit the inside of my lip, and then opened them again.
Huh. So there's a guy staring at me. Though he's trying not to be obvious. But there was a clear two seconds difference between when he was looking at me and when he wasn't. He sat in the parallel seat across from me and the lights of the train tunnels flew behind his head like speeding fireflies. I narrowed my eyes. Slyly I diverted my gaze to stare at something random on the train, some lights or something. I was baiting him, daring him to look back. He did.
And I caught his eyes with mine and locked them there. Caught you.
His lips parted and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. However, he had to indulge me first.
"Can I help you?" I said bitingly. He looked taken aback, mouth hung open and eyes narrowed. He looked like he was trying to figure out something complicated.
"I'm so sorry, so so sorry," Oh goodness, the poor guy was as awkward as I was, "I was just trying to see what you were holding. It's been bothering me since you got on." Ah, so that's what he was trying to figure out. Hmph.
"Oh." I kind of didn't know what to say to that, "it's a lamp. I bought a lamp today." I wondered if my tone was too blunt. Well he started it. He stared at me.
The guy seemed to smile to himself, "You were clutching it like it's a lifeline."
I grew defensive then cooled off. He was trying to have fun. In a hopefully subtle once-over, I took him in fully.
Tall, even from sitting down. His hair was styled to hang over his forehead in a long fringe which I found common in the British guys I had seen lately and in the light it was the colour of dead Autumn leaves. His shirt was black with white stars aligned below the collar, matched with black skinny jeans. He was looking at me expectantly and I realised my once-over wasn't as quick as I hoped. He probably thought I was sizing him up, like a piece of meat. Which I guess, I was.
"It's a really nice lamp" I blurted out.
It took him probably about three seconds to burst into fits of cackled laughter. And I'm afraid I too am privy to a bit of a giggle. I had no choice but to join in.
We didn't say much after that. He asked me where I was from and I said that I was technically born and raised in London despite travelling quite a bit and living on the outskirts of the town itself. From then on it was mostly just small talk. I didn't ask him many questions. I felt like I really didn't need to.
The train screeched to a halt at the next stop and the stranger stood from his seat. He looked back at me with a smile that I noticed actually brought some spark to his dark eyes.
"I hope that lamp lights up your night" he smiled that same smile -seemingly directed at himself- from moments ago. However, my jaw dropped at the cringe-worthy pun. He was already moving to get off before I shouted after him;
"That was awful... but I liked it!" I tried to keep my voice from giving away my obvious amusement.
"I know!" he called back to me.
When the train began to move once more I looked for him on the platform. When we met eyes and waved farewell, I realised he had been looking for me too.
*
A cosy night in, with the promised light from my new lamp, brought with it a deep sleep in which I didn't dream. But I awoke completely revitalised and ready to greet another day with nothing to do. I curled my toes in my soft sheets. Maybe I could just stay here with Candy Crush all day. No wait, I deleted that app.
Two slices of toast with honey, a warm shower and ten minutes of bopping to an addictive pop-punk song later and I went to wish London a good morning. The train ride into town reminded me of the dark-eyed stranger I met the previous night. I found myself smiling at the recollection. Weird. I stared off into the distance watching the memory play in a dim daydream until I reached my station.
With no where to go, I wasn't in any hurry. So, with the same song from this morning stuck in my head, I absent-mindedly perused the shop windows. A few scarves and blouses caught my eye but I kept walking, not in the mood to enter any of the shops. I was one of the very few people I knew that actually engaged in window-shopping. But I was alone and wandering and adventure awaited... I supposed.
I shook my head quickly when I realised which shop I had entered, whilst I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to notice. I was surrounded by antique toys and games and puzzles. I reasoned with myself. I guess I like puzzles.
I plastered my usual uncaring, blank look reserved for moments of perusing back to my face and proceeded down the puzzle aisle. Nothing seemed to jump out at me, then again nothing really did when I was in this state. What did take me by surprise was walking straight into a lanky figure whom I did not see standing right in front of me. Unlike the last time I met a stranger, it was my turn to be apologetic.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," I looked down at my feet and realised that the victim of the crash has been holding (you know, before the collision) a cardboard box filled to the brim with soft nerdy toys and face masks. The contents had spilled all over the floor, "Here, let me help you with that." I bit the inside of my lip.
"Oh! No, really, it was my fault" his voice had a Northern layering. You didn't need to be British to recognise that. The new guy bent down to pick up his belongings, at the very same time I did, and our foreheads collided.
"Oomph! Oh ow! Are you okay?" I said in a tone probably too loud for a toy store. I pressed my hand to the sore spot and continued to pick up fallen masks and puppets and plushies.
"Now that one was on me, here lemme give you a hand." I realised that he was on his feet now so I collected the last fallen item and returned to the box before taking his outstretched hand. He kindly did as he said and pulled me to my feet where he promptly let go.
I was met with blue eyes and inky black hair. He was pale, or at least paler than me, and wore similar black skinny jeans to the guy I met yesterday. But the shirt he wore was what really caught my eye.
"Hey cool shirt!" I recognised the familiar circular, red three-headed dragon logo from Game of Thrones printed on a white background, "Although I'm more of a Stark girl to be honest with you."
He didn't speak for a moment. He just...stared. For Christ's sake, what was with people staring at me lately. You'd think I was growing a second head. I arched my neck and cleared my throat. He seemed completely out of it.
It managed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in and he shook his head violently to clear whatever cloud contained his thoughts.
"Oh, sorry. Yes, house Targaryen. Ha ha, 'dracarys!' am I right!" he was speaking so quickly. Oh no, I broke the guy. He's reverted to rambling mode.
We shared a painfully awkward silence and then the new guy inhaled deeply.
"Sorry. Brain fart. That was really awkward wasn't it?" he said in a voice that suggested that he was ready to abandon all hope of conversation. I grimaced and nodded slowly.
"Okay, let's rewind," and then, out loud, he managed to mimic the sound of a tape recorder rewinding (which was again, painfully awkward, but kind of admirable. I certainly couldn't make a sound anything like it). He collected his cardboard box filled with junk off of the floor and adjusted it so that it fit under one arm. With the other arm he initiated a hand-shake.
"I'm Phil." He said in his unique accent. I shook his hand.
"Lucy," I replied, "can I give you a hand with that? Help you to your car?" I offered.
A small smile traipsed across Phil's face, "thank you, but my room-mate is coming to meet me in a bit so I'll just make him carry it." He hadn't intended it as humour but I laughed anyway. Then, much too late, I recognised my cue to leave. I made to be the first one to farewell but Phil beat me to it. Must've been the awkward silence that arose when I had finished laughing.
"Well it was nice to meet you Lucy. I'll, um, see you around." He left the shop so quickly that he didn't hear me return his goodbye.
"Nice to meet you too" I said to the ghost of his shadow.
My lips were parted and my eyes narrowed. I tried to figure out what just happened. An unexpected reaction occurred as I delved into a fit of hysterical laughter. My encounter with the bashful Phil was not only awkward but excruciatingly so. Apart from cringing there was no other way to react. The shopkeeper looked at me like I was currently the bane of her existence so I took my giggly self outside.
In the distance to my right I could see a recently familiar figure walking with someone new whose back was to me. The room-mate, I guessed. I considered running after them and reacquainting myself with Phil and maybe meet his friend. But by the time I had thought of something witty to say, after imagining myself sprinting like an idiot to catch up, they had vanished from my sight.
I frowned. Two likeable strangers in two days and nothing to show for it.
(A/N: Hello! So I wasn't going to write this at all. But you guys can probably imagine the feeling. Once you start you just can't stop. And so 'A Heart Divided' was born. If you guys arrived for instant smut, then I can't blame you as I thought that that's what would sprout from my fingers hitting the keyboard. Then this happened and I'm sticking with it. So if you would like to follow Lucy along her journey of getting to know the two strangers (yes, the first one was Dan, I had hoped it was obvious) then please vote and comment. And if you shipping experts are really out there -which I hope you are- then comment below who you think Lucy would be better with. Let's see who wins, Dan or Phil? Thanks for reading peeps. Talk soon xx Kat)