Grace

Seven

"Where do you want to start?" he asked, pulling up to a traffic light and tapping his fingers on the wheel.

She shrugged, picking at a piece of dark red polish on her fingernail. "Just pull over somewhere. I planned on exploring."

"You didn't have a list of places you wanted to look into?" he asked, sounding less than unamused.

"No, I didn't. And I don't think you're in a position to complain about it, either."

The light turned green and he lightly pressed on the gas, a soft sigh escaping his lips. It had been a long time since he'd had to put up with Grace's stubbornness and he was out of practice. She took pleasure in knowing she was getting under his skin.

They pulled into a garage attached to the shopping center. The moment he parked the car, she was unbuckled and slamming the door shut. He ran his fingers through his hair as his feet hit the pavement, like he knew he'd gotten himself into something awful but could do absolutely nothing about it.

He led the way to the stairwell, putting on a pair of sunglasses when he was hit by a streak of sunlight. She tried not to roll her eyes at the way he walked, a confident sort of strut he'd developed over the years. She had known him when he was an awkward shuffler.

Her eyes took in the area around her, noting every shop, boutique, and restaurant in the vicinity. It all looked rather upscale, and while she wasn't exactly hurting for money after her dad's inheritence kicked in, she wasn't really loaded either. She'd always been sort of frugal, and she knew that to afford any of this, she'd probably have to start looking into jobs as well. She mentally tacked it onto the end of a very long list of things she needed to do to get her shit in order.

The day was rather cool, but the sun felt nice against her exposed skin. There wasn't much of a breeze here like there had been the night before, but the day itself was sort of clouded over and shady. Periodically, a thick gray cloud would move over the sunlight and form goosebumps along her arms, but moments later it would leave again with the sunlight in its wake. The weather was definitely a reminder of what she'd left behind in New York.

"Do you like London so far?" He asked from beside her as they rounded a corner.

"Are you trying to make small talk?" She countered.

He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose as he kept pace with Grace. His hands were dug deeply into his pockets, a stance she always loved watching him take but was avoiding looking at due to the circumstances.

"Humor me, Wilson."

Her lips pressed into a firm line as she fixed her eyes on the street ahead. They seemed to be entering a slightly more residential area, at least. The bustle of the shopping center was fading behind them, less pedestrians to be seen on the sidewalks.
"I like the weather," she conceded. "And the sort of honesty to it."

He snorted and she found her head jerking in his direction.

"London is smoke and mirrors. It fools people into thinking it's something more than it is," came his reply.

She wasn't sure how to explain to him what she had meant. That the city reminded her of standing at a party and drinking alone, looking captivating and put together, but you can still see the sort of sadness in her eyes, hear the hollowness to her laughs. She's putting on a show, but there's something breaking inside her.

So she kept silent as they moved deeper into the streets of Camden. She was focusing on the sounds her sandals made when they slapped the pavement and the kind of noise coming from restaurants with open sections leading out onto the patio.

"I didn't mean to offend you," He offered up a moment later. "I guess I just don't understand what you mean."

"I don't know how to explain it," she answered shortly.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but she was already on the zebra crossing, heading in the direction of an apartment complex that looked slightly more afforable than the others they'd passed. He had to run to catch up to her, and by the time he had, she was already pulling open the door to the reception.

A receptionist looked up from her spot at a desk at the far end of the room. Though Grace had been the first through the doorway, the receptionists eyes were focused on him, the boy behind Grace. She refrained from turning to glare at him in favour of stepping forward and offering her hand.

"Grace Wilson," she told her, finally grabbing her attention for a moment. Her eyes took Grace in as she accepted her hand, putting on a professional smile.

"Betty Cartwright. Apartment manager. How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a one or two-bedroom in the area and your complex caught my eye. Would it be possible to see one?"

She nodded as Grace spoke, eyes flickering to Harry only after she'd finished speaking.

"One or two bedrooms, huh? I've got a few options I could show, but they're sort of small for two..."

"No," Grace blurted before she could help herself. She raised an eyebrow and Grace knew she'd turned bright red from embarrassment. She tried to recover. "I mean, we're not... It's not..."

"I'm a friend," He intervened, pushing his sunglasses back over his head to rest in his mess of curls. "Just along to be helpful."

Grace almost cringed at his use of the word "friend", but for the sake of being stuck with him for the day, decided against it. Betty grinned as she purred an "Excellent".

"Let me grab my keys and we'll get started," she said, turning and pushing open a door immediately behind her desk chair. Grace sighed in relief.

"She's friendly," He muttered. Grace half-smiled.

"Like a shark," she agreed flatly.