Book Two : Aveline. | Slash Fanfiction

chapter thirty

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THIRTY - 1992, London.
Day Five ; Untied Boots And Stolen Roses, pt iii

THE TRANQUILITY RUPTURING their calmed expressions mellowed their giddiness, Aveline bouncing upon Saul's back with a racketing, loud, laugh tumbling from her tone, his hands wrapped around her upper legs to prevent her from descending to the ground, cautious not to hurt her pretty self during the piggy-back-ride. He chuckled breathlessly, inhaling the chemicals of the cigarette as it balanced between his lips, trudging along the pathway as her arms craned around his neck and shoulders. Between her fingers sat the stolen rose, it's petals alive and thriving, within the dullness of the street, and she found herself unable to pause the invasive grin from entrancing her mouth every time her eyes caught sight of it, filled with nothing but pure joy.

"Where are we going?" Aveline giggled wondrously, glancing around at her surroundings cluelessly. Saul shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, the spread of the grin upon his cheeks uncontainable.

"I don't fucking know, Leanie." He chuckled. "I really don't fucking know."

"We were supposed to be in a cafe, Saul." She snickered. "What happened?" Glancing around, the pair noticed not a single soul in sight; the streets as desolate as the stench of wondrously roasted coffee beans.

He snickered childishly, "Shit, man, where even are we?" He asked curiously. The two interrupted the daunting silence of the world around with giggles and laughter, louder than necessary as their ribs began to ache and their throats grew dry.

Weakened by thick amusement, the two fell from the friendly embrace, stumbling along the pathway with their shoulders continuously crashing something gentle, giggling aimlessly as they tumbled along the pathway, in search of some form of coffee house. After a moment or two of trudging bemusedly along the poorly-lit street, the soft hue of the tender amber luminosity entered their bemused lines of vision, igniting soft boots and sighs of relief, as they hurriedly tumbled toward it's entrance.

The hands upon the elderly clock, rhythmically ticking away upon the soft yellow wall, to the far left, read somewhere between three forty-five and three fifty. Saul couldn't be too sure, as Aveline ragged him through the warmth of the abode, directly toward the counter with a giddy smile - the mechanic hanging from the wall simply a blur as he rushed past it. "Could I grab a black coffee, please?" She smiled, pearly whites sweet as a sugar or two.

"Of course, dear." The wrinkled and aged woman nodded, a beam stretched upon her lips as she glanced between the two, with their interlocked hands and adrenaline riddled smiles. "And for you, Son?" She called out, snapping Saul's wandering attention toward her as he brushed his invasive curls up and over his head, squinting his worsening eyes in the direction of the drawn-on menu.

"I'll have..." He trailed gently. "I'll take an Espresso, please, Sweetheart." He nodded, smirking lightly in the woman's direction.

Her eyes held creases of admiration and fond recollection - a notion of romance she'd once experienced, many moons ago. "That'll be three, sixty-five, Love's." She stated, rummaging Saul's hand to filter through his jacket pocket, withdrawing a crinkled five-pound-note, smiling sheepishly, and handing it over to her warm and gingerly soft palm. Returning the correct amount of change for their expenses, the woman spun upon her heel to begin mustering their beverages.

Saul kicked to a quick paced walk, trudging over to the large, boxy, jukebox, perched within the corner of the Cafe, Aveline locked between his fingers as she trailed a foot or so behind. The glow of the options stared him glisteningly within his darkened orbs, calloused fingers inserting the few coins and selecting the correct options, a gentle sigh of satisfaction rupturing through his lips as the beginning few guitar notes rang through the speakers, a soft tingle of a symbol ringing through after a selected number of beats.