~When We Were On Fire~ James Bay FanFiction

Chapter 1

Do you ever imagine how you're going to die? I've always been careful because I never know when tragedy can strike. It can be any moment when you're getting a phone call telling you that your loved one has died. I try not to imagine things like this too much. Especially when I'm roaming the streets, when one mistake is critical to what the rest of your days are going to be like. Like me pushed out into the street by some jerk who is running late, and doesn't care about anyone but themselves.

"Excuse you," I mutter to myself when a hand reaches down helping me. I take the strangers hand and give him a smile, showing them I'm okay.

"You should watch for people like him," his accent hits me like a pile of bricks. I instantly remember that I'm in London and headed to a place I knew nothing about. "I'm just getting here, and I have no idea where or what I'm doing."

"Where are you headed to?"

"Brighton."

"Well, it's your lucky day. I'm headed that way from playing my gig over here." He shows me his guitar case before we start walking towards what I assume is towards the train station. "What is a lovely lady like you doing here by yourself?"

His last sentence creeped me out a bit, but I decided to shake it out of my head. "I just got here from America. I decided I wanted to get away from my family for a while and I've always wanted to live in the UK." The strange man nods and I see his long brown hair shake from under his hat. I just noticed this stranger's features. He had a chiselled jaw and cheekbones. These things paired with his long hair, hat, and accent made him more attractive.

"Well, I'm James, an aspiring singer who happened to run into a lovely young lady. You've got to be at least a sixteen-year-old who ran away from her family." James gave me a nudge making assume that last part was a joke.

"Look at you Mr Fortune Teller; you know my whole life story." I pause for a slight chuckle," I'm Lydia, and I'm twenty-three, actually." By this time we already reached the trains. I followed James like a lost puppy, but I had no one else to help me. If he kidnapped me, no one would notice because it would look like I went with him willingly.

As we board the train, I take in some more of James' features. He wears a white t-shirt, a leather jacket, paired with some black combat boots and, his hat. He dressed gloomier than he appeared. It made him seem like a bad boy when, deep down, he might be the softest guy a person could meet. I notice myself dressing in shorts, a loose shirt, and my shoes made me look like a girly-girl.

James decided to tell me more about himself on the ride over to Brighton. He tells me that he was in London for a gig at a pub over there when someone asks to put one of his performances on youtube. He tells me how excited he is to play over here in Brighton again. I explain to him how I am always careful, and that it's crazy that I'm following him around. For the rest of the ride, he teases me about my fears, but I know the jokes aren't meant to be rude.

"Where to next?" James asks smiling. He is such a gentleman.

"I don't want to be a burden so you can head home. Thanks for all the help, but I don't want to bother you anymore." I go to turn away when a rough, but gentle hand grabs my wrist.

"Oh, darling, did you think you were getting rid of me that easy?"

I stood for a moment contemplating whether he was a real gentleman. Maybe he was a serial killer trying to gain my trust.

"You seem adamant about helping me? Are you sure you're not crazy."

"I might be, but you seem nice, and I'm trying to make a new friend. Can you really blame a guy for trying?" He gives a little shoulder shrug to add emphasis.