His Last Vow: Part Four

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I decided to not take a cab to the bridge this time, and took the near hour walk through the chilly streets of London. The fresh air helped my sickness, and the wind chill was just bearable enough. A billion thoughts rolled around in my head as to what I was going to say to Daniel. After not speaking for a month, to neither him nor Lucy... how could I even have the courage to face him? As I stopped at a corner, I considered if what I was doing was right, and if it was completely wrong to just let him wait for hours.

As I crossed the street, I tightened my jacket and shuddered from the wind. Just thinking of Daniel pissed me off so much, and I tried thinking of something else.

My mind instantly went to what Magnussen said. Being not a pushover ran in my family? Unfortunately, I was so distracted by my own vault of thoughts, I didn't notice a boy running into me. He dropped his wallet, and also a coffee he had. Luckily, it wasn't like the movies and spilled all over me.

"Oh-oh shit, I'm sorry." He apologised, and I lifted up my hands while squatting down to pick up his wallet.

"It's-its alright, I should watch where I'm going, I guess." I stated, trying to not step in espresso. "I'm not feeling myself today."

"Wait-I know you!" He exclaimed, and I looked up to see that it was the boy from last night. Only this time he looked cleaned up; in a button down shirt, jumper, and jeans that weren't ripped everywhere. His hands had gloves on that protected from the brisk cold. All in all, the appearance was almost a carbon copy of that person I once knew.

"Do I know you?" I asked hesitantly, standing up and handing him his wallet. "Probably not, sorry about the beverage, okay bye." I hurried and proceeded to walk down the street.

"W-wait, hold on." He called, and caught up to me. "I want to apologise."

"Apologise for what? You didn't do anything." I ignored, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"Yes, I did." He insisted, and touched my shoulder, making me stop. I turned to face him and noticed he had a small mole on his right cheek, and how his eyes actually looked charming when not bloodshot from drugs. He chuckled and eased his grip. "Look, I saw how hopeless you were this morning when that man carried you out. To be completely honest, I was sober up until yesterday afternoon, and then I found myself at that hellhole, thinking I would jam a needle in my arm to escape. When Sherry arrived with you, I thought you were looking for the same thing. I didn't know it was your first time, and you seemed willing to." He explained. I looked in his eyes the whole time, trying to decipher if he was telling the truth of not.

"Seriously?" I debated, making sure my voice had disbelief. He lifted his hands from his pockets, and took in a breath.

"Swear on my life." He promised.

"I'll think about it." I said, and then continued to walk, hoping my joints weren't frozen. "I have better things to worry about."

"Oh, like what?" he asked, and adapted to my walking pace.

"Like what your name is. I didn't catch it." I remarked, stopping and trying not to look at him.

"Well, I didn't throw it, first of all," he quipped. I looked at him annoyed. "Secondly, what do you think it is?"

"Oh my god, I'm going to toss myself in front of a cab." I thought out loud.

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