All I Have

Chapter 8 ~ There's a Big Difference Between Arch-Enemy and Nemesis.

'I would like to point out, I'm not above slashing some tyres to avoid going this morning.' I grumble, unbelievably tired and not prepared for the upcoming journey. Maybe if I miss the train, they'll let me just fly over instead.

'I've been living with you for six years, I need no confirmation of your abilities tiny satan.' Emilio says, aggressively yanking my suitcase down the stairs.

This morning has been a haze of unpacked suitcases, an irritated Asher and a stressed Emilio. And, as you might have guessed, yours truly has attempted to find any way to stay in bed, and it's only since Emilio threatened to crucify me that I actually got up.

Asher slept on the sofa (thankfully, after last night) and then proceeded to spend all morning coming into my room every fifteen minutes to pull my covers off my warm body and drag me onto the floor, only to return to find me back under the duvet again.

Which brings us to Emilio, Asher and I dragging three heavy suitcases down the stairs of our apartment block towards the taxi waiting for us in the parking lot. All ready for our big twenty hour adventure, Lord help me. Two of the suitcases are mine, and only one is Asher's, but it's so heavy that it makes up for the both of them.

I dive out of the lobby door and into the awaiting cab, leaving the bags for the boys. I clutch the door handle tightly so that once Asher has loaded my cases into the boot, he is forced to struggle against me, earning us a glare shot at me by the driver. Eventually he huffs and like I hoped he would, he shoves his body into the front seat, leaving the back one beside me for Emilio, who joins us, rubbing his hands uncomfortably on his jeans as he stares into space.

He's muttering to himself as he crosses off items and actions from his to-do list in his head. I loll my eyes in his direction in a lazy and very tired movement.

'How come you didn't just drive us to the train station?' I question as we turn from our road and the driver's SatNav guides us left.

The smell of the leather seats is enough to wooze my head into a never ending headache and yet I know the driver's going to insist on having the automatic voice of the SatNav on full volume the whole time.

'I'm not angry enough to get us through central London at this hour.' Leo says, unaware of the driver's reaction of anger from the seat in front of him. Asher is already tapping away on his phone so it seems I'm the only one who understands why the next him he breaks, he does so a little too harshly.

If it was anger he was worried about, why didn't he let me drive?

It doesn't take long for the tiredness of getting up before midday to kick in and while attempting to shuffle a seat belt from around my neck without flagging the driver's attention, I find myself resting on the window ledge to my left. Asher's phone beeps and clicks annoyingly as he texts.

And emails according to the sneak peak I took over his shoulder.

Emilio stays silent most of the way there with a folder open on his lap and a pen in his hand and occasionally between his teeth depending on the necessity of his signature.

The journey should only takes us fifteen minutes in the traffic and I don't point out that there was no need to set off an hour early, but I would like to. Our driver however seems to have only just got his license, given that we wind up getting lost. At one point, his entire navigational system goes out the window and he tries to follow a big building he remembers.

Emilio spends twenty minutes and then an extra five on top of that reminding me of the time and how I was going to miss my train. I spend it in silent hope that I might miss it, and Leo might have to come with us, or even at least put us on a plane instead.