𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎/𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝟒𝟓 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

A/N 

Here's another update for you, my loves. We truly are on the homestretch now, and I can't believe we're nearing the end of the second book. Thank you for the continued love and support, it really means the world to me. 

Also a massive thank you for the 11.4K reads! That's mental, and I'm so happy that so many people are enjoying reading about Maria and Brian as much as I'm enjoying writing about them. They've still got a long way to go in their story, and I hope you plan to stick around for the remainder of the series! 

Without further ado, enjoy chapter 45! Also, apologies if there are scene breaks that are slightly odd, I really struggled with smooth transitioning in these filler chapters. 

Love you all x

//

June 1976

Maria

"Oi!"

I turned around in the direction of the voice.

"Watch where you're going, boy!" An older gentleman brushed off his sleeve as though he'd been infected by something unsavoury.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Bloody kids nowadays—so disrespectful."

"I said I was sorry—I barely touched you!"

"That's what I mean! Can't admit to anything you do wrong... you kids are why this country's heading for the shitter."

"Your generation are in charge, are they not?"

"Can it, little boy." The man scoffed with a shake of his head, ready to take his leave.

"Ay, who are you calling a little boy?!"

"Is there a problem, 'ere?" A surveillant police officer interrupted, his truncheon swinging from his clenched fist.

"Uh, no, there's no problem, Officer, thank you," I interjected before Chris could put his foot in it even further. Grabbing my brother by the sleeve, I dragged him away from the scene, covering my laugh with my spare hand. Once we got far enough away down the street, I swiftly wacked him on the arm. "You dickhead!"

"Almost had another Northern fumble," Chris cackled.

"That's really not—" Giggle. "Not funny!" My amusement begged to differ.

"Why are old people such twats?"

"They're not usually, it's just unfortunate that you came down on a day where there's one on the prowl. But don't cause anymore crap. You can't do that shit down here."

"Note taken."

Chris had decided to take a trip down to London for a few days, and his Northern ways proved to clash astronomically with the Southern coldness. While it wasn't fair to generalise, the amiability in the streets of Yorkshire remained an indelible mark in contrast to the distant demeanour observed in the metropolis. It was an open secret, an unspoken truth, that the denizens of Yorkshire wore kindness as a birthright.

Although I extended an invitation for him to stay on my sofa, Chris opted for a lodging at a hotel nestled in the pulsating heart of the city, thus prompting me to undertake an arduous commute for our rendezvous. His refusal seemed characteristic of our shared stubborn streak that had only intensified over the years. He was determined not to "inconvenience" me, notwithstanding my persistent assurance that his presence could never be a bother.