Midnight In Sheffield | Alex Turner

Chapter VI - Mad Sounds

Song recommendations: Dance Little Liar by Arctic Monkeys, or A Tragic Fate from the Professor Layton soundtrack.

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When she was younger, her parents were thinking about divorcing. And that's really something to deal with at such a young age. So, she found solace in the only things her mum had lying around; books.

Books had been the only reliable thing in her entire life. The words were solid on paper, the storyline was set, and it had an end and a beginning. Nothing she had to go through; she only had to be a spectator from above, able to criticise people for the mistakes they made and commend heroes for their virtuous adventures.

It's why she would describe her life to be something of a book. However, it was a story that seemed to have no ending. An intricate plotline that just kept on going, daring her to just mark the page and close the cover on it whenever she was getting sick of it. To just leave those heavy chapters weighing her down behind her, never to look back.

She felt like she was only at the middle of the story, where things should be going easier, because she could just leave her book open without the pages turning on their own because of the stiffness of the brand-new cover.

She had it all, really; though sometimes still in doubt, her parents were together, she had a man she could rely on who she would marry, and a nice apartment to get back to.

She barely felt the raindrops touching her face, as her entire body appeared to be numb.

She stood there, in front of the restaurant, for what seemed like ages, until the bells of the church struck eleven, and she was still unsure of why she was unable to move any of her limbs.

Warm hands touched her arms, comfortable, yet firm. They must have noticed how cold she was getting, because they draped a dark jacket over her shoulders. "You're shivering," she vaguely heard, "Let's get you somewhere warm, shall we?"

She nodded, the events of the evening finally playing back all over again. Her stomach felt heavy, and her heart was beating at a faster rate than it usually was. "Do you think he'll come back?" she muttered.

Brown eyes swept over her, and a chill went down her spine. She couldn't tell what they were thinking; she only saw a calculated determination to make sure she was okay. "I don't know," he replied honestly, "But I know he wouldn't want you to have caught something by the time he gets back."

She barely gave a nod of her head, which was enough indication for Alex to tuck her under his arm, and walk her through the empty streets of a rainy Sheffield. At the very least, the downpour would hide the fact that hot tears were silently slipping down her face.

She must've looked like a real mess; standing shivering in a soaked wet dress in front of a brick building, tucked tightly between other brick buildings, as Alex fumbled with his keys. Once finally catching his bearings, he was able to twist the lock open, and push back the door that were adorned with gleaming golden numbers reading '505'.

It was a shared complex, with an apartment downstairs and one up, which was Alex' place.

She shouldn't have been surprised, really, but the home was quite cosy, most likely because of it's size, and if she had to describe its contents in a few words, they would be 'retro simplicity'.

Brown leather couches which looked very well worn made up most of the living room, along with a radio that sat upon a wooden cabinet stashed with liquor of all sorts. One of the walls was almost entirely covered by built-in shelves, holding many books and records alike, but leaving just enough room to be able to open the door on that very same wall.