❝IN WHICH, IT IS A COLD DECEMBER IN LONDON, AND SNOW ISN'T THE ONLY THING THAT'S FALLING. HE'S FALLING FOR HER AS WELL.❞
Will Delilah Fitch be nothing more than a dance to remember?
❝DANCING AND PRANCING❞ ________________________________
She looked around the bus as though she had never been in there before.
It's only when her eyes latched onto Parker's did she run full pelt down the aisle of the bus into his arms.
(it was almost as though he was the only piece of her universe that was making sense)
"Delilah," Parker sighed, as he wrapped his arms around her.
She didn't reply, she just tightened her hold on him.
And Parker knew that the poor girl was well and truly broken.
"You're here," she whispered at last, clutching onto the fabric of his shirt, like all her life depended upon it. Her fingers still looked mangled, but she clung onto him, exercising them more than she should.
"Always," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, until he could feel her loosen up. "Come, let me treat your fingers again."
She gingerly sat down on the seat, as though she was made of paper.
Parker carefully took her fingers and she watched, as he meticulously cleaned all ten of them, before applying more of the cream and the gauze.
"Delilah," he said after a while.
She looked up at him with searching eyes.
"Can we please talk to someone about this?" Parker asked, his jaw setting straight. This was too much, and he couldn't bear to see his girl getting treated this way.
"Please don't remind me of it," she softly said, with a small shake of her head.
"But Delilah, you're getting fucking third degree burns, I can't - "
She gasped at his profane choice of word.
Parker had never sworn before, but he felt like this time, the situation called for it.
"I'm sorry!" he spat, as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "But this is getting out of hand, and I can't watch you getting hurt. This is inhumane, this is - "
"Please Parker," she said. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and Parker made the mistake of looking into her eyes.
It was her eyes! It was her goddamn eyes. It was always going to be her eyes.
They were wide and brown and broken, and he had never seen anything that sad before. So he gave in, and turned around to look at the seat in front of him.
She didn't say anything, but suddenly her fingers latched onto his hand.
"Please talk to me," she said, hopefully. "J-Just not about that."
Parker nodded quickly and turned to her. "You know I was this close to working in a Waitrose branch?"
"Oh."
"Yeah, I was on the hunt for employment opportunities, and Waitrose had an opening, but the only opening was near the canned foods aisle and I hate canned foods."
"So you didn't take it?"
"How else would I be sitting next to you?" he asked with a grin.
And his heart swelled up in sight of the small smile that flitted across her face.
"You must know a lot about the bus routes, right?"
"Almost everything," he said.
"Okay, let's play a game then." She turned to face him, and Parker straightened up as well. "Let's see how much you know about the stops."
"Go for it."
"Which stop has the nearest Waitrose?"
"Abbott."
"Um, okay...which stop has the nearest hospital?" She waited expectantly.
"Scottsburry," he said, pointing his index finger ahead.
"Which stop does that girl get on?" she asked, pointing ahead to a girl with a white coat.
"The only girl I've ever noticed got in at Lark Lane."
She smiled. "Which stop has the nearest gas station?"
"Both Nottinghill as well as Parkshire have gas stations within sight," he answered, off the top of his head.
"And," she swept a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Which stop has the nearest railway station?"
"The one at Vauxhall street."
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a/n
foreshadowi - oh never mind. ;)
hey loves, hope you liked this chapter and have been enjoying this book.
