5. The Morning After

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Starin' at a distance, this warmth is hard to find
Sittin' in the silence, I gave my best, I tried
Simply a distraction I didn't hope to find
Sittin' by my side, I hope you're here to stay


Paul opened his eyes, and as quick as she had come, the dream girl was gone

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Paul opened his eyes, and as quick as she had come, the dream girl was gone. 

He couldn't remember exactly how he got back to his flat. If he had messaged Phoebe, or worse, his mother.

He felt too terrified to look at his phone, so he left it resting downside on the kitchen table. He put on sunglasses and a red hoodie before heading to his nearest Tesco for a bottle of tonic and a bag of salt and vinegar Walkers, his favourite hangover remedy.

Even though nothing felt right, nothing felt wrong either. The city was early, quiet and crisp. The streets of Angel more beautiful than ever after a bit of rain. He felt a wave of hope wash over him, and he was gonna ride it without looking too carefully, without stopping to think about anything other than the cold sunlight coming through the trees, and the silent exchange of trust and tenderness he felt the night before. 

Paul had forgotten lust could be so intoxicating and passionate, but also healing and full of understanding. He wanted to capture the memory any way he could, so he snapped a quick picture of his own reflection. He never left home without a camera now. Everything felt too precious. He knew everything could change and be gone in a second.

Without noticing, he went from a walk, to a sprint, to a run. The trees and people becoming a colourful blur left and right. The only thing that grounded him to reality was his hand turning numb from carrying the freezing tonic bottle. 

He was aware this feeling would pass, and heartbreak would seep itself back into the depths of his eyes and soul, but for now it was alright. 

He opened the door to the pub and there she was, Daisy. Waiting for him, like every Sunday morning since he moved back to London.


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