#dry cleaners in london

[leonsdrycleaners]

Shirt Laundry Services from Leons Dry Cleaners:

Leons Dry Cleaners is your trusted destination for high-quality dry cleaning and Shirt laundry Victoria in South West London. With years of experience and a deep commitment to customer care, we have become a local favorite for residents and businesses alike.

Leons Dry Cleaners is proud to be a part of the South West London community. Visit us today and experience the convenience, quality, and professionalism that have made us a trusted name in local dry cleaning. We look forward to serving you! Visit Us - https://leonsdrycleaners.com/services/shirt-laundry-at-victoria-south-west-london/

[primelaundrylondonsblog]

Is Life too busy? Prime Laundry Dry Cleaners London Get it done for you

Join hands with Prime Laundry to get more out of life. Life gets extremely busy for almost everybody these days, with a few exceptions. Relaxed lives may still be found in remote settings, certainly not in feverishly busy London or, to a lesser extent, Birmingham too. Doing more and more professionally and academically is fine, but it leaves little time to stand and stare. Since labour pays by the hour, the more done, the higher the income. School and college requirements and examination pressures build up too. The reasonably-priced laundry services that reach the doorstep with superfast delivery could extend a helping hand to relieve the distress. Such dedicated services may be available nearby. Technology, via the app, has succeeded in conquering time and distance too. 

What a dry cleaner near me does

Managing your private washing and ironing, along with expenses on the machine, seems quite difficult to achieve for businesses and bigger families. The time and effort required, along with the regular supply of energy and water, leaves things to chance in an intensely competitive world. Working on a weekly schedule requires the workwear and linen, the shirts and gowns, to be ready at particular times for duties. Apparel cannot be taken lightly and the wardrobe requires more attention than is normally given. A dry cleaner near me should bring bliss with timely deliveries. 

Dry cleaners in London promote tension-free lifestyles. Working through Monday to Sunday and ever on the toes make them easy to work with. Punctuality is certain, and the quality of work is assured. Reputations built over many years and ample reviews confirm their capabilities. They offer a variety of services like washing and ironing, dry cleaning, and a few associated services like dress alterations and shoe repairs. Isn’t it convenient to have them all under the same roof?

Services: same-day dry cleaners near me

Too much to do every day, professionally and perhaps socially, has destroyed human patience. Frantic people need same-day dry cleaners near me to get services done quickly. With access to advanced equipment and a crew of expert workers, they collect at the doorstep and deliver the same evening. Bigger workloads may require additional time. Such pick-up and delivery services are offered for free. Save time and expense on commutes. 

Significance of a Professional dry cleaning service

Regarding the significance of professional cleaning, it enhances the personality and helps make a good impression everywhere. The individuals benefit, and the dresses too. The sharp, lively creases make sure that no wrinkles remain. Dresses retain their original shape. The heat from the iron gets rid of germs, so it is healthy too. The dresses look colourful and lively, with an extended life for sure. Make sure that dresses are cared for well. The delicate dresses, woollens, silks, fur, and suede designs require greater effort at the hands of experts to avoid damage.  

Finishing is perhaps the right word that applies to lots of things. The glossy appearance of dresses after cleaning and ironing spells success. The world and the media love it. Cultures and climates differ, and some costumes are rather elaborate. Lots of hard work goes into arranging all the different parts of the dress. The cleaners have an important role to play. Make wardrobe maintenance a regular habit and stand a better chance of success with good impressions. 

Why must take dry cleaning services?

The truth is that garments do not get clean at home though they give an appearance of purity. Hidden away are many germs, mild stains, and odours that go unnoticed. That is why garments sparkle when they return from the laundry. The equipment is advanced, the detergents are eco-friendly and the ironing is expertly done. Most dresses deserve such care, considering the great role they play each day. Don’t take attire for granted anymore.   

According to geographical areas, dry cleaner Birmingham should bring lots of cheer. Whether it is large-scale laundry contracts or a few dresses that have been neglected, make them a trusted partner. While change takes some time and patience, the sheer advantages are many. Giving up the feverishly busy lifestyle and generating free time from washing and ironing is nothing less than inspirational.   

Not every week and month of the calendar is so busy. Annual vacations and longer holidays could provide a refreshing break when dependence on laundry services would cease. The app reminds us that laundry services are flexible. It takes a few minutes to change appointments and re-schedule them.

Final word

Think again. How to best manage the endless household chores or infinite official duties more conveniently? Whether housewife or manager, the same problems of time shortage apply. Getting physically or nervously exhausted each day has a clever solution. Arrange with Prime Laundry through the app to conveniently pick up the laundry at the doorstep and deliver it clean and ironed each time. Start a new smart chapter. Consistency follows as the system picks up speed towards a brighter future. Everything now seems possible, the picnics and the parties.

This content is originally published on Prime Laundry’s Website: Is Life too busy? Prime Laundry Dry Cleaners London Get it done for you

[kensingtonpark1]

Kensington Park Dry Cleaners: The Best Curtain Cleaning Service | Unbelievable Curtain Washing Service

Curtains are an essential part of home décor, adding elegance and style to any room. However, over time, they can accumulate dust, dirt, and allergens, diminishing their appearance and affecting indoor air quality. For residents in Kensington, finding a reliable curtain cleaning service is crucial. Kensington Park Dry Cleaners stands out as the best curtain cleaning service in the area, offering an unbelievable curtain washing service that ensures your curtains look as good as new.

At Kensington Park Dry Cleaners, we understand the importance of maintaining the beauty and longevity of your curtains. Our team of experts uses advanced cleaning techniques and eco-friendly solutions to remove dirt, stains, and allergens without damaging the fabric. Whether you have delicate lace curtains or heavy drapes, our professional curtain cleaning service caters to all types of materials, ensuring a thorough and gentle clean.

But our expertise doesn’t stop at curtain cleaning. Kensington Park Dry Cleaners offers a wide range of services to meet all your cleaning needs. If you’re looking for Leon’s Victoria dry cleaners, you’ll be pleased to know that we provide top-notch dry cleaning services in the Victoria area. Our team is experienced in handling various fabrics and garments, ensuring that your clothes receive the best care possible.

For those in need of dry cleaners Victoria, Kensington Park Dry Cleaners is the go-to choice. We offer comprehensive dry cleaning services, including leather jacket cleaning service, to keep your wardrobe looking pristine. Leather jackets require special attention and care, and our experts have the skills and knowledge to clean and condition your leather garments, extending their lifespan and maintaining their appearance.

In addition to garment cleaning, we also provide key cutting Kensington services. Whether you need a spare key for your home, office, or car, our skilled technicians can cut keys with precision and accuracy. Our key cutting Victoria service is convenient and reliable, ensuring you never find yourself locked out.

Our services also extend to dry cleaning Victoria and wedding dress dry cleaning. We understand the sentimental value of wedding dresses and use specialized cleaning methods to preserve their beauty and intricate details. Our professional wedding dress dry cleaning service ensures your gown remains a cherished keepsake for years to come.

For those with busy schedules, we offer a same day laundry service London. Drop off your laundry in the morning and pick it up freshly cleaned and folded by the end of the day. This service is perfect for individuals and families needing quick, reliable laundry solutions.

At Kensington Park Dry Cleaners, we also cater to business professionals with our suit dry cleaning London service. We know how important it is to look sharp and presentable, and our meticulous cleaning process ensures your suits are spotless and well-maintained.

With so many options for dry cleaners in London, Kensington Park Dry Cleaners remains a top choice due to our commitment to quality, customer satisfaction, and eco-friendly practices. Our team of experts is dedicated to providing the best cleaning services, from curtain cleaning to key cutting, ensuring all your needs are met under one roof.

In conclusion, whether you need curtain cleaning, garment dry cleaning, leather jacket care, key cutting, or same-day kensington laundry services, Kensington Park Dry Cleaners is your trusted partner. Experience the best curtain cleaning service and unbelievable curtain washing service in Kensington, and let us take care of all your cleaning needs with professionalism and care.

[vipcarpetcleaninglondon]

The basics of rug cleaning – helpful tips shared by professionals

Can I give my area rug a deep clean? This is a common question among those DIY enthusiasts who love to keep their carpets clean and tidy. The answer is probably yes, you may deep clean... Read more

[fabspin1]

Elevate your style with premium dry cleaning services in Paschim Vihar. Our experts provide meticulous care for your garments, from delicate fabrics to tough stains. Experience the convenience of drop-off and pick-up at your convenience. Preserve the lifespan and quality of your clothing while saving time. Discover the ultimate in fabric care. Contact us today to schedule your first dry-cleaning service and revitalize your wardrobe! 

[ukdropletuk]

How To Find A Professional Cleaner Open in ST. John, London?

Residents and businesses alike can now sigh relief as a professional laundry cleaner open in st. Johns, London its doors to serve the community. This new addition brings convenience and cleanliness to a bustling area where the demands of daily life can often leave laundry chores overlooked. Read More: https://medium.com/@ukdropletuk/how-to-find-a-professional-cleaner-open-in-st-john-london-cca3fc69a950

[masterdryclean]

MasterClean

Experience top-quality dry cleaning, laundry, and invisible mending services at MASTERCLEAN DRYCLEANER

[drycleanerscity]

Best dry cleaners in surbiton london.

[hellolaundry]

How do I find dry cleaning services near me?

Finding a reliable dry cleaning service near me is not something you should take lightly. You are trusting the cleaners with your costly wardrobe, which could ultimately impact how you feel and look daily.

To help you find the ideal dry cleaning service near me, we've put together a list of the key elements you need to consider when choosing a dry cleaner:

Cleaning Quality

Accessibility

Damage Policies

Additional Services

You can also book Hello Laundry in London for high quality dry cleaning services for your clothes.

Original Source: https://www.quora.com/How-do-I-find-dry-cleaning-services-near-me/answer/Hello-Laundry

[agelessphotography]

Sketchley’s dry cleaners on King’s Road in Chelsea, south-west London, Harold Chapman, 1960s

[leonsdrycleaners]

Leons Victoria Dry Cleaners – Professional Household Cleaning Services in Victoria, South West London

At Leons Victoria Dry Cleaners, we are more than just a dry cleaning service. We offer a range of household cleaning services in Victoria to keep your home in pristine condition. Serving the Victoria and South West London areas, our expert team is dedicated to providing top-quality cleaning solutions for your home textiles.

Keep your home fresh, clean, and inviting with Leons Victoria Dry Cleaners' household cleaning services. Whether it’s your curtains, rugs, upholstery, or linens, we provide the care your household fabrics need. Call us or visit our Victoria location to schedule a service today!

Visit Us - https://leonsdrycleaners.com/services/household-cleaning-service/

[primelaundrylondonsblog]

Prime Laundry Dry Cleaners - London & Birmingham Service

Busy life? Prime Laundry offers fast, affordable dry cleaning with doorstep delivery in London and Birmingham. Save time and enjoy hassle-free service!

[aangelinakii]

PICTURES OF US

in which you and tangerine share a kiss without an umbrella

character : tangerine

song : pictures of us , beabadoobee

date : 17th june 2023

warnings : swearing

note : again,, so sorry for my hiatus !! 😭😭 but here i am <3<3

red flames flickered in the soft, chilling breeze, as your thumb clicked the flint of your lighter, setting the end of tangerine's cigarette ablaze.

smoke billowed around the two of you, its expensive scent filling your lungs, a cloak keeping you warm from the nipping chill of an autumn night in london.

for the past two weeks, your fiancé had been on a mission in paris, and you'd been left in your apartment to fend for yourself. i mean, of course you had visited friends and focused on your own job and hobbies, but whenever tangerine went on longer missions it was difficult to cope. that's why tonight, with him being back from paris for only a day, he'd treated you to dinner as a way to make up for his long absence.

now, bellies filled with the warm food from your favourite restaurant, the two of you walked arm in arm down the pavement, sky pitch, street dim.

cigarette settled between the index and middle fingers of his free hand, tangerine looked down at you, his piercing blue eyes darkened in the low lighting, turned into crescents with admiration.

"i don't know how many times i've told you tonight, but you look amazing," he smiled down at you, the arm linked with yours flexing to squeeze it. "no idea how i can stay so long away from you sometimes."

a soft laugh brushed past your lips, and you used your free hand to squeeze tangerine's bicep in return, muttering a small thank you.

for a moment you were quiet, taking in tangerine's musky cologne. "yeah," you began slowly, "it's difficult when it's just a couple days, but two weeks? you're kidding."

now it was tangerine's turn to laugh, taking another toke of his cigarette.

"i know, it's insane. i missed you like crazy this time. 'specially in paris, city of love and all. i should take you one time, when i don't have a job coming up."

your lips pulled up into a wistful grin. "paris? i'd love that."

just the thought of the couple of you strolling through the heart of paris at night, the dazzling eiffel tower peeking at you through a break between two townhouses, made you nostalgic of something that hadn't even happened yet. perhaps for your honeymoon?

"do you know where you're off to next?"

tangerine shrugged in response, exhaling more rich smoke. "lemon's handling it this time. he mentioned it on our way back, but i don't know much yet. i think somewhere in south america — bolivia? argentina? don't remember."

you only hummed back, acknowledging his response, but not asking any more as it was clear not even he knew that much.

as the two of you continued to stroll down the dark pavement, the few orange street lanterns highlighting your faces. matching in sync with your footsteps, raindrops pierced the grey concrete.

a drop landed square on tangerine's forehead, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. "shit!" he groaned. "if it starts shitting it down i'm gonna ruin this suit."

"hey, hey, don't worry about your suit," you spoke up, laughing all the while, the rain around you beginning to pick up in power and speed.

you removed your arm from out of tangerine's link, and moved to stand opposite him, placing your hands on each shoulder. "it's just rain, yeah? we can take it to the dry cleaner's tomorrow."

as he looked down at you, albeit droplets of rain rolling down his face, his expression softened. "i really don't wanna ruin my suit, love," he spoke, softer this time.

"dry cleaner's," you repeated, leaning closer, hands on his shoulders pressing down tighter.

opposite you, tangerine's face scrunched up, a mixture of defeat and exasperation. "god, you're impossible." with this, he inhaled from his cigarette and tried to push down his smile.

above you, dark clouds darkened the sky, if that were even possible, and the rain picked up pace. needless to say, tangerine's suit, and your overcoat, were going to the dry cleaner's tomorrow. tangerine's brown locks, which had previously been gelled back, were now spilling down his temples, weighed down by the rain.

the cigarette in his hand was of no use at this point, and he flicked it away.

"alright, love, d'you think we can keep walking now?" he asked, eyes squinting as he tried to see through the rain.

grin on your face, although rain-stricken, you shook your head. "no, let's stay for a bit. you're not in a rush, are you?"

"to get dry? yeah, kinda."

your hands on tangerine's shoulders moved up to his neck, pulling him towards yourself even more. the distance between you was closed, lips against lips.

warmth spread between the two of you, a high contrast to the striking rain falling down from the clouds above.

tangerine's larger hands took in your waist, pulling you further into him, trying to keep himself warm.

the kiss lasted a few moments, and when you pulled away, your eyes lingered closed, and your arms wrapped around tangerine's broad frame, encapsulating the two of you into the odd sensation of a warm embrace and a cold atmosphere.

your fiancé was back. in your arms. in the rain.

"my love?" his voice a ghost in your ear. you hummed in return. "paris isn't as cold as london, d'you think we can head home now?"

eyes halved into crescents as you pull out of your embrace, you looked up at tangerine with a half-laugh. "yes, oh my god, i'm so cold."

[possibilistfanfiction]

if ur feeling angsty or hurt/comfort: maybe the first time ava loses a patient?

[maybe not the first time but the first Very Hard time // ao3]

//

‘dr. silva.’

ava doesn’t turn around, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the rain — loud and unrelenting and already having soaked through your surgical gown, your scrubs, your clogs — or if it’s just because nothing in the world makes sense right now to her. maybe, you think, it’s a little bit of both. 

you walk a few precise, steady, careful paces toward him; if there’s anything you know how to be, it’s that: precise, steady, careful. dr. ava silva sprang into your life an anomaly, a holy bomb soft in its light and empty in any destruction, resetting your dull, exacting world to bursts of color, everywhere.

‘ava,’ you say, softly. you wait a few quiet heartbeats before he turns around to face you. even though it’s raining you can see tear tracks down their cheeks, and when they sniffle you reach out a hand for them to take. there’s a beat but then she does, her fingers cold and lithe. ‘there wasn’t anything we could’ve done,’ you say. 

she blanches at the statement; it’s true, but you know it’s an impossible pill to swallow. ‘she — her daughter is going to wake up, and —‘ ava shakes her head, her hair plastered to her forehead, messy from when she’d taken her cap off.

‘she’s going to wake up, yes.’

‘it’s going to be the worst day of her life. her mom… her mom —‘ 

you feel ava tremble with a force you only understand because of all you, too, have lost. she hasn’t told you everything, but you know enough of her to understand when she can’t sleep even after marathon shifts, when her back flares and she flinches as minutely as possible throughout a surgery. you know enough of her to understand how she seeks out joy, how she savors the last bite of terrible cafeteria spring rolls, how she makes her patients laugh, even when they’re terrified, how she tries, every shift, no matter what, to watch the sunrise from the roof. you understand rage and you understand unspeakable grief. something you’re maybe learning, though, is love. 

‘you can’t save everyone.’

ava’s jaw clenches and he turns away from you, so you squeeze his hand and wait. eventually, he sighs in exhausted defeat, horrible resignation, and looks at you. 

‘we save everyone we can.’ it’s something dr. superion taught you; shannon taught you. ’it’s terrible, and i wish things were different. but we save everyone we can.’

she swallows, takes a step closer; her fingers, despite the rain and the chill, have warmed in yours — have stilled, have steadied. ‘i almost died, when i was seven,’ she says. ‘i did die, medically speaking, for three minutes.’ 

you feel her pulse along her wrist, thrumming away.

‘i almost missed you.’ he brings his hand, careful, to rest on your cheek, thumbs it gently. ‘what a gift, to be here and know you now.’

it’s easy, to let her press her lips against yours. she’s beautiful, and she tastes like rain and salt. your brain catches up and wills your body to kiss her back, to feel it all, this miraculous stretch of life.

you kiss until the tips of your fingers ache with the cold and you're both shivering and then lead her inside by the hand. you're technically not supposed to, but you go to the attendings' showers because they're bigger and cleaner and offer more privacy. you don't take your clothes off, just stand with ava under after the water is hot and you hold her to you then.

'breathe,' you say, softly, into his wet hair, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and does.

eventually you strip out of your scrubs and dry off, intimate and unsexy and perfect.

'i — i know this was a loss for you too,' ava says once you're both sitting in the lounge, putting your warm clothes back on, getting ready to leave.

'my mother is attempting to pass truly abhorrent policy in london and calling me to tell me i'm a disappointment,' you say. 'it's okay if this feels different for you.'

ava takes it all in and then frowns. 'god, fuck your mom, you know that? you're the most impressive person i know.'

'did that make you feel better?'

'imagining punching her in the face? yeah, totally.'

you laugh. ava's shoulders relax and his countenance lightens, just barely, but enough for you to be sure he'll be okay. 'shall we go home?'

'can we pick up some ramen on the way? i swear i'm still freezing.'

'of course,' you say, and take her hand.

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 2

Word count: 6,800

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Friday, December 16th, 2022

Manchester, England to London, England

You finally wake up to the chime of your third alarm, ringing out loudly into the dark hotel room. 6.35am. You’ve always struggled with waking up early, especially after a show night.

You groan, rolling over to silence your phone. You reach your arm back to pat the space next to you, knowing Jake is just as heavy a sleeper and usually requires an in-person wake up call, only to find the right side of the large bed empty.

Suddenly the memory of last night rushes back to you, and you jolt upright. As you slowly return to full consciousness, you become aware of the puffy tightness around your eyes and the ache in your chest. No doubt the residual evidence of crying yourself to sleep.

After Jake had stormed back down the hotel corridor to the elevator, you’d scrambled to find your room key and shut yourself in as quickly as you could manage. 

You’d thrown your bags down onto the leather armchair in the corner of the room, fighting back tears, suddenly more angry than upset at his outburst. You hadn’t deserved that. If you felt guilty, so should he. It was his relationship at stake, not yours. You hadn’t made it up in your head, you knew there was something between the two of you, something that had your stomach in knots every time you were around him.

You’d sunken down onto the scratchy hotel carpet, each emotion hitting you like a brick. This job, this tour, it meant so much to you. You loved the work, and the music, getting to travel the world and seeing new cities each day. You’d truly been living your dream. But at the centre of it all, there was Jake. From the moment he’d first spoken to you at that crew party, you’d felt drawn to him. Like your centre of gravity had shifted. Every exciting moment you’d had while you’d been on the road, every new experience, it was all made better when you could share it with him.

You’d hugged your knees to your chest, finally allowing yourself to choke out the sobs you’d been holding in since he’d raised his voice at you. What did this all mean? You couldn’t continue this friendship as it had been. To be totally honest, in that moment, you weren’t even sure if he wanted to. But you’d known, whatever had occurred tonight, it couldn’t happen again. You were so embarrassed that you’d told him your relationship had felt like more than friendship to you. You knew he couldn’t possibly feel that way about you, he had Lily. Whatever these feelings were, they were yours, and yours alone. You couldn’t let yourself feel that way. He was off limits for you, and if that meant sacrificing your friendship, then so be it.

You’d sat there on the floor, switching between crying, sucking in sharp breaths, and just sitting in silence with your head resting on your knees, for what felt like hours. When you’d finally pulled out your phone, you saw a notification on your lock screen. 1 new text. Quietly hoping for a message from him, you’d swiped it open, only to find a reply from the dry-cleaner. 

12.10am Pete M (GVF dry cleaner): No worries, Y/N. Britannia Hotel, yes? Text me your room number - see you at 7.

Shit. The jumpsuit. You quickly replied with the details and locked your phone.

1.33am. You still had work to do, and as much as you wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever, you knew that the show must go on.

You'd gotten up slowly, stretching out your arms and legs from sitting for so long. You trudged toward the small bathroom, only glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly before reaching in to turn on the shower. The back of your neck was still sticky and you could smell the reek of tequila in your hair and clothes as you stripped them off.

You’d climbed into the shower and hissed when the too-hot water hit your shoulders, but you didn’t mind. You needed it to wake you up, and draw the tension from your muscles. You stood under the spray for a while, splashing your face, hoping to remove some of the redness from your eyes. You’d scrubbed your arms and legs, quickly washing your hair, and when you felt sufficiently clean, you reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out.

After wrapping your hair in a fluffy hotel towel and throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of underwear, you grabbed your back-pack and tote from the chair and sat yourself up in bed to do your mending.

It didn’t take long, it was just a small tear in the chiffon, right on the seam of the arm and shoulder. After 20 minutes or so, you were happy with your work, your fingers a little sore from hand stitching, and you decided you were done for the night.

You knew with a night off tomorrow in London you’d have plenty of time to prepare the clean clothes once Pete returned them, and your one urgent job was now complete. You were satisfied that the mundane work had taken your mind off of Jake, for the time being.

You’d hung up Josh’s jumpsuit on a wire hanger on the back of the door, repacking your sewing supplies and your empty tote into your back-pack, placing them back near your duffle bag, where you’d dumped your jeans and crew t-shirt from the day. You turned off the overhead light, crawling back into the soft bed. You’d wished that Jake had been there with you. You missed the comfort of a warm body next to you, the familiar sound of his breathing when he inevitably fell asleep before you, and the way he would drape his arm over your waist in the middle of the night.

You’d sighed, reaching up to flick off the bedside lamp, setting your alarms and burrowing down under the covers. In the silence, it took you a while to get to sleep, Jake’s sad expression painted on the inside of your eyelids. But when sleep finally found you, you slept like the dead.

Now, you draw the curtains, the sun not yet having begun to rise over the sprawling, grey city. Yesterday, Manchester had seemed full of possibility. This morning, the dark sky and buildings leeched of colour in the moonlight mirror your mood. You walk over to the small dresser opposite the bed, flicking on the electric kettle. Tea will have to do this morning, you’re over the instant coffee packets you’ve been finding in UK hotels. As the kettle boils, you make your way to the bathroom, running a brush through your sleep-dried hair and pulling it up into a messy bun.

You pack away the remainder of your toiletries, washing your face, rolling on some deodorant and applying some SPF and mascara before zipping up the bag and stowing it back in your duffle. You pull out a casual outfit, just some comfy linen pants and a green sweater, stripping your pyjamas and tossing them into the bag before zipping it closed. 

You get dressed leisurely, having given yourself an extra buffer of time. You kind of regret this, as it gives you more minutes to stew over the events of the night before. Once you’ve donned your boots, you lay out your coat and scarf on the bed, ready to brave the December chill of the city in less than half an hour. You check your phone for the time. 6.54am. Pete will be here in a few minutes. You brew your tea, giving Josh’s jumpsuit a final once over as you let the teabag steep. You’re a little proud of your handiwork, considering your emotional state.

As you’re topping up your tea with one of those little plastic packets of milk, there’s a quiet knock at the door. You open it and greet Pete good morning.

“Cold this morning.” He grumbles.

You chuckle, retrieving the garment from the hook and handing it to him.

“Sure is. See you in London!”

He gives a gruff wave and heads back down the hallway.

After you’ve had your tea and sufficient time to panic over how things will go with Jake today, you bundle up in your warm clothes, pack your final items into your purse and make your way down to the hotel lobby. 

When you make it out the front entrance, it’s still dark, and the chill bites your cheeks immediately. You beeline for the crew bus. Jake usually makes space for you on one of the sleeper buses with him and the band, but you don’t feel like you’ll be welcome there today.

As you’re loading your bags into the back of the mini-bus, Sam and Lennon catch you as they’re heading out into the porte-cochere. 

“Morning, Y/N!” Lennon chirps. She looks undeniably sprightly this morning, especially when standing next to Sammy, who looks like he’s about to fall flat on his face at any moment, gripping tightly to a paper cup of what you assume to be coffee. It doesn’t even look like his eyes have fully opened yet.

You give them a small wave and turn back to loading your belongings.

She gives Sam a pat on shoulder, which makes him wince, before bounding over to you.

“We’re sharing the bus with Jake today, Danny and Josh are gonna take the other one. So we can catch up!” She giggles excitedly. “Sammy’s not feeling too flash - I can’t imagine Jake is either, to be honest, after the amount those two drank last night.” She’s laughing as she says this, but it makes your stomach drop. It doesn’t take much to piece together why Jake would’ve wanted to get shitfaced last night. “But, I reckon they’ll sleep the whole trip, which is perfect ‘cause I just wanna hang out with you!”

You shake your head, unsure how to navigate this. Would Jake want them all to know what happened between the two of you last night? You assumed he’d go right to Sam’s room to have a bitch about it, but given Lennon’s assumption that you’d be riding on his bus, it sounds like he didn’t.

“I dunno. I’m not feeling 100% today.” It’s not totally a lie, your head is swimming with anxiety. “I might ride on the crew bus so I can take a nap.”

She scoffs. “Don’t be silly, hon! The boys aren’t feeling good either, and you’d be much more comfy on one of the bunks if you want to nap. As long as we get to ride together - you can sleep the whole trip if you need to! I’ve got some reading to catch up on anyway.” You close up the trunk of the mini bus, but not before she snags your purse and throws it over her shoulder. She puts her arm around you, turning and leading you both toward the first of the two giant, black buses. 

You haven’t seen any sign of Jake yet, which is good, but at the same time also kind of unsettling. You’re wondering what kind of state he’ll be in this morning, but if Sammy is any indication, it won’t be good. Jake is always in a shitty mood when he’s got a hangover. 

Lennon leads you up the stairs onto the bus, where Sam is already sprawled across the small sofa in the front compartment. As you walk through, he groans loudly and throws his arm across his eyes.

Lennon sighs, reaching down to brush some hair from his forehead.

“Drama queen.” She mutters. 

He peeks his eyes out. “Wrong brother.” He retorts. “Josh is the drama queen.”

“Seems it runs in the family.” She chides.

He huffs and covers his eyes again.

You situate yourself at the small table across the way from the sofa, pulling your knitting out of your purse. You’ve always been one to hand-make gifts, and you’d been knitting small things for the boys in the band for Christmas presents. Luckily you’d already finished Jake’s, and it was stowed away safely in your duffle, not to be thought about. You were working on a chunky purple and navy scarf for Danny, and you were about a third of the way into it.

Lennon slides into the bench seat opposite you.

“That’s gorgeous. Who’s it for?”

You smile at your work. “Danny. It’s a Christmas gift. These are his colours, I think.”

She grins, running her hand over the soft wool. “Definitely.” She hums. “I need coffee.”

Sam perks up at this. “There’s a hot water urn under the sink.” He points to the little kitchenette behind the driver’s seat. “And a French press too. And coffee grounds, I think.”

Lennon rolls her eyes and gets up.

She gestures her chin at you. “You want one?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I’d kill for a real coffee after what we’ve been having here.”

She giggles. “Amen to that!”

As Lennon starts to prepare the necessary items for coffee, you hear boots clacking up the bus steps. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

“Back from the dead!” Lennon greets him with a grin. “Good morning, Jake.”

“Yeah, ‘morning.” He nods at her. He smiles when he sees his brother napping on the couch. “You look about as good as I feel, Sammy.” 

Sam chuckles from under his arm. “Well, you said it. At least we don’t have to drive.”

Jake looks like he’s about to reply with some quip, when he spots you sitting at the table behind Lennon.

“Uh, I’m going back to sleep.” He says quickly.

He makes a small noise of acknowledgement toward you, which sounds a lot like a grunt, and then brushes past and draws the curtain to the bunk compartment.

You aren’t quite sure what you were expecting from him today, but you guess avoidance is better than confrontation. It still stings though. If this had been yesterday morning, he might have slid into the booth next to you. 

He might’ve admired your knitting, telling you how impressed he was at how much you’d managed to complete in the past 24 hours. He might have teased you, asking what you were gonna make for his gift, because you’d been so sneaky about hiding it from him. He might have slung his arm around the back of the bench seat while you both gratefully accepted your steaming mugs of coffee from Lennon, occasionally letting his finger tips brush over your shoulder with the movement of the bus. He might have moved to the couch when Sammy finally retired to the bunks, pulling out his acoustic and strumming a private show for you and Lennon. You loved watching him when the music would just come to him. Like he was channeling it from some higher power. He could just play and play and play, tuning out the world, glancing at you every so often just to catch you staring.

Instead, you thank Lennon as she places a single mug of coffee on the small table, and goes over to sit on the couch with Sam’s head in her lap.

About an hour in, when you’ve done a sufficient amount of knitting and downed two coffees, the 4 hours of sleep you’ve had is starting to creep up on you. 

Lennon catches you, unable to keep your eyes open.

“Oh, hon, you do look exhausted. Go have a lie down in the bunks. It’ll make the ride go so much faster.”

You smile at her appreciatively, but realise this would mean having to interact with Jake, or at the very least, invade his space.

“I’m alright. I’ll lay on the couch if Sammy moves to the bunks.”

Sam grunts. “Not moving. M’comfy here.”

Lennon laughs, picking up his head and placing it on a cushion so she can get up from her spot.

“C’mon, girl. You need your beauty rest. You’ve got a job to do here too, don’t you forget.”

She’s right, and you realise you won’t get any work done today if you don’t sleep. You’ll just crash as soon as you get the hotel.

She helps you pack your knitting back into your purse and ushers you down the hall. At this moment, you really wish this was one of those buses with a private double bed at the rear. At least then, you could rest assured Jake would’ve taken it, and you could take one of the bunks without fear of running into him. Instead, this one just has a tiny bathroom at the back with a toilet and shower, but only 4 beds, 2 bunks on either side of the walkway.

Lennon pulls back the curtain and then draws it closed behind you as you step into the small space. You can hear small snores coming from the bed Jake has claimed, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You won’t actually have to speak to him. Just fear his wrath if he wakes up and sees you across the way.

They are small bunks, but comfortable enough, especially with how sleepy you are. You place your bag and coat on the top bunk, sitting down on the bottom one to pull off your boots. You place them delicately under the bed, careful not to make any noise. You stand again to grab your headphones from your purse, when your phone slips out of your pocket and clatters to the floor.

“Fuck.” You mutter.

“What the fuck was that?” Jake groans, eyes still closed.

“Sorry, dropped my phone.” His eyes shoot open when he realises it’s you standing in front of him.

“Right.” He says quietly. “Uh, why are you in here?”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You cringe a bit at the confession, knowing he’s the reason you slept so poorly. “Lennon forced me to come in here and take a nap because I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” You know you’re rambling, but you don’t know how to navigate this situation. “Sorry if you don’t want me in here, it’s just that, Sam’s taken up the couch and there’s no other beds.” You’ve never had any type of bad energy with Jake, not even a disagreement. This is new territory for both of you.

He sighs. “Ok. Keep it down, please.” He rolls over to face the wall, tucking the blanket up over his ears.

You slide into the small bed, pulling the blanket up around you, and place your headphones over your ears. You unlock your phone to choose some music to help you sleep. You almost always listen to music to fall asleep. You’ve done it ever since you were a kid. You’ve tried white noise, sleep-casts, rain sounds, but nothing puts you to sleep quite like your favourite songs. 

The only time you don’t, is when you have someone sleeping next to you. The sound of their breathing is just as good. Stella snored like a chainsaw, and you’d secretly loved it. The reassurance of knowing she was there had always relaxed you. This was also especially true for Jake. He’s broad, and warm like a space heater, and breathes heavily through his nose. It was so comforting.

Right now, though, knowing how he’s feeling about you, you can’t stand to hear him, or even acknowledge the fact that he’s less than 4 feet away from you.

You put on ‘Line of Fire’ by Junip, turn to face the wall, and quickly fall asleep.

You wake up to the sound of laughter, it sounds like Sammy. You groan and stretch, your limbs tight from the cramped space. You’ve rolled over in your sleep, your headphones have slid down around your neck, and when you open your eyes, you see Jake’s empty bunk across from you.

You hear laughing again, louder this time, and you can hear Jake laughing, too.

Fuck.

You can’t go out there, you’ll ruin his mood. 

You’re beginning to feel guilty about your conversation last night. You know he overreacted. He didn’t have any right to go off at you like that. But, you keep reminding yourself, it’s not his fault that you have feelings for him. And maybe, he really did have no idea until last night. Maybe that spark you feel between the two of you, just isn’t there for him. What he said about you being only a friend to him, it had to be true, right? Otherwise what reason would he have had to get so mad?

Plus, it’s his tour. His band, his family. Like you said last night. You’re his employee. Friendship aside, it would be inappropriate for you to treat him any differently than you did yesterday, or any of the days before. You’ve gotta keep it professional and put his feelings first, and your emotional involvement aside.

You realise you really have to pee, so you quietly climb up from the bunk and head to the small bathroom. When you wash your hands, you splash your face with some water, trying to revive yourself. You swipe under your eyes with some paper towel to remove your running mascara, and re-do your bun. You look fine. No one cares, anyway. 

When you open the door to head back to your bunk, Sam has drawn the curtains in the walkway.

“Good morning, princess! How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. Not too bad. As well as one can in these beds.” You smile ruefully. “What time is it? How long have we got left?”

“Almost there! Like half an hour, they reckon.” He seems much more alive than earlier. “Come join, we’re having a celebratory hair of the dog.” 

Ah, they’re drinking again. That must be what’s got both Sam and Jake in such good spirits.

You sigh. “Nah, I think I’m good. I’ve got work to do when we get to London, unlike you lot. I might just sit in here a bit longer.”

Sammy whines. “Come onnnnn, Y/N! We’re having fun! Plus, Lennon missed you so much. Spend some time with her before I whisk her away to the next hotel room.”

You concede, nodding your head, and follow Sam out to the main compartment.

Lennon is sitting in the booth, and Sam slides in opposite her. This leaves the other seat on the couch as the only free one.

Next to Jake.

You sit down, leaving as much space as you can between the two of you.

You’ve come to the decision that you’re not upset with him. You’re upset that you might be losing your friend, and you’re kind of pissed off that he’s not acknowledging you, even now as he and Sam banter over their vodka sodas, and Lennon leans over to you every few minutes, asking to be caught up on the inside jokes. You’re annoyed that he was so angry last night, and didn’t give you a chance to have a real conversation about things.

But you’re not upset with him. You’re scared of your own feelings, and you wonder even if things between you are repairable, whether you should bother at all.

You glance over to him every few minutes, and a couple of times you catch him looking at you, too. He doesn’t deliberately exclude you from the conversation, but if you had to guess, he was probably just trying not to rouse suspicion from the others. He never speaks to you directly, and you feel your heart fracturing just a little bit more.

When you arrive at the hotel in London, you disembark the bus as quickly as you can, keen to get away from the awkwardness you’ve endured for the last 40 minutes. It’s a little warmer here than it was in Manchester, but not by much. You head over to the mini-bus, which has beaten you all there significantly, your bags being the last to be unloaded.

You grab your things, and head into the lobby to retrieve your room key.

The band and crew are standing in a loose circle around the elevators, waiting for Craig, the tour manager, to provide the necessary information required for your stay in London. It’s about midday now, and you’ll be here for two nights total, with a show at the Alexandra Palace tomorrow.

Only two more nights, then back home. You can get through two nights.

Josh comes up by your side, slinging an arm around you.

“How was the ride?” He asks, chewing on a granola bar.

You muster as much of a smile as you can manage. “Oh, yeah. Nothing to report, really. I slept most of the way. Needed to catch up.”

He chuckles. “Well, we need you in ship-shape for the next couple’a days, so I for one am glad to hear it!”

You gather Jake hasn’t spoken to him, either.

“What are your plans for the holidays, Y/N? I keep meaning to ask you.”

“Not much, to be honest. Gonna spend them in New York. Got a few college friends I’ve been meaning to catch up with, and the tour will provide lodgings for the crew that’s staying in the city, so I figure I might as well, you know?” You try to keep yourself from sounding unenthusiastic, but it’s not really anything special.

“Aw, well, that sounds nice. At least you’ll get to have a White Christmas, hey?” He begins to hum Bing Crosby in your ear, and you giggle.

“Exactly. Might go see the ball drop. I’ve never been in person. Never wanted to brave the crowds.”

“Sound lovely.” He grins. 

Craig starts calling out departments, names and room numbers as people meander about the foyer.

“Alright, wardrobe. Y/N - you’re in room 528.”

You walk up to collect your cards and head back to Josh.

“Did you get yours yet?” You ask him.

“Yeah, 419. Same floor as Sam and Lennon. Danny, too, I think.” You love that Josh is an over sharer. You’re trying to scope out if you’ll be running into Jake.

“Any idea about Jake?” You ask casually. It wouldn’t be suspicious for you to want to know where he was staying, considering everyone on tour knew of your friendship. Perhaps only a little suspicious that you’d be asking Josh instead of Jake himself, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Floor 5, I’m pretty sure.” You feel your gut sink.

“Sweet.” You mumble.

You wait back in the lobby for a bit, hoping not to run into him. You find Freddie and Julie, relieved to see some familiar, friendly faces.

“Holy shit, that mini-bus driver was a manic. Being on the wrong side of the road is bad enough, but he was going so fucking fast I thought we were gonna die.” Julie gushes to you.

Freddie laughs. “God, yeah. It was terrifying. But we had a good karaoke sesh, Y/N. Lots of Taylor Swift. You should’ve joined! I thought when you were putting your bags in the trunk, you must’ve been riding with us.”

You smile apologetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’d planned to, but Lennon wanted to catch up, so I rode with Jake and Sam.”

“Fuckin’ Jake.” Julie grumbles. “He’s always stealing you away from us. Just ‘cause you’re a pretty girl and he’s a rockstar. It’s not fair.”

You try to keep your laugh light. “Sorry! Next time, I promise. Once we’re back home.” You squeeze her hand. “I’d love to hear you belting some Love Story, Freddie.”

He laughs. “Nah, Shake It Off is my jam. Killed it this morning. Woke Tom up from his nap. Worth it, I reckon.” You all laugh.

You look around and see the lobby has mostly cleared, so you gesture to them to follow you to the elevators.

“What floor are you guys?” 

Julie checks her card. “6. Freddie?”

“Yeah, same. I think most of the crew are on 5 or 6. You?”

You sigh. “5.” He presses the button for you.

Of course, no one you knew was on the same floor as you. Except for Jake. 

There are roughly 38 crew on the tour, including the band, plus some friends and family that have joined for this leg. About 45 rooms are booked. And out of everyone, yours and Jake’s just happen to be so close.

Yesterday, that would’ve made you happy. Would’ve been easier for you to sneak into his room tonight when you got done with your work, without the teasing comments from his brothers or your friends.

Alas, things rarely work out as you plan them.

You unpack your things onto the nightstand and bathroom counter, doing a quick check of the mini-bar to find, yet again, instant coffee. You groan.

Ah, well. Could be worse. At least there was some champagne.

You decide to take a shower after the bus ride, feeling grimy and still a bit achy from the small bed.

When you’re done and re-dressed in some sweats, you get a phone call from Pete telling you the first round of cleaning is done and ready to be collected. You know you’ve got some sequins to fix for Danny, so you slide on your slippers and a sweatshirt, and head down to the lobby to meet Pete.

As you wait, you contemplate texting Jake. After the bus, you wonder if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. What exactly you’d say, you have no idea.

Before you can even open the message thread, Pete shuffles into the hotel, a clothing rack of black garment bags in tow. One of the bellboys tries to offer him a hand, but he waves them off.

You love Pete. He’s a grumpy old bastard, but he’s got a soft spot for you. He understands your dedication to your craft, and he often tells you that you remind him of his mother, who was a seamstress in LA in the 50’s and 60’s.

He reaches you, pulling the receipt from his pocket. “All sorted, love. I’ve already sent the invoice to Craig, but this has the inventory on it.” He puts it in your palm. “The next lot is on the truck being cleaned now, should be done by supper time.” He grumbles a little. “Some of it will need an extra iron. This cleaning van we’ve hired is rubbish. Tools don’t work so well. Can’t wait to get back home to old faithful.”

You smile warmly at him as he hands you the rack, nodding. “Thanks so much, Pete. You’re a star. Those boys would never be dressed without you.”

He laughs. “Well, a rock’n’roll band playing a show stark naked. People wouldn’t have bat an eyelid, back in my day.”

You giggle. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Well, missy, I bet you would.”

You blush. “Thanks, again. You can just load the rest of it straight back into the trunks, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“No worries, Y/N. Don’t work too hard.”

You wave him off as he heads back out to the loading dock, where the cleaning van is parked.

You check the receipt as you roll the rack into the elevator, scanning for Danny’s cape. It’s on there - thank God. That one will probably take you the most time this afternoon. The rest of your prep is mostly ironing and steaming, which you’ll do tomorrow morning before you have to load in to the venue.

As you go to press the button for your floor, a hand slides between the doors and they reopen. You glance up, and see Jake looking back at you. He steps in.

“Oh, sorry.” You mutter. The rack is taking up a lot of space.

“It’s fine. What, uh, what floor are you?” He asks.

“5.” You say quietly.

“Perfect.” He mutters.

The ride is quiet, one person gets in on floor 2 and out again at 4.

As the doors close, you decide to break the tension.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” 

He sighs. “Is there anything to talk about?”

You feel a pang of hurt at his words. “I don’t know, is there? We went from being best pals yesterday, to not talking at all today.” You sigh. “Guess I just want to know where we stand.”

The doors open and he steps out into the hallway, holding the door for you to wheel the rack out.

He runs a hand through his hair and replaces his sunglasses on his head. “You made it pretty clear, Y/N. You think we’re too co-dependant. Y’know, I thought giving you space would be the right thing to do.”

You frown. “And what about the fact that you practically blew up at me, swearing in my face?”

He sighs. “Yeah, dunno. Guess you kind of caught me off guard.”

Right. No apology.

“Okay, Jake. No worries.” You turn and walk down toward your room. As you stop to unlock your door, you turn back, and see him looking back too. He’s at his door, just on the other side of the elevator. He quickly glances away and disappears into his room.

As you step into yours and wheel the rack into the corner, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, realising the sweatshirt you’ve chosen.

It’s Jake’s.

You busy yourself with sequining, deciding it makes more sense just to pull all the old ones out and re-do them, which ends up taking you all afternoon and evening. At about 9.30pm, you realise all you’ve eaten today was a gas station sandwich Lennon picked up for you while you were asleep on the bus.

She texted you a couple of times earlier, letting you know that her, the boys and some of the crew were heading out into town for a drink, asking if you’d like to join. You’d politely declined, stating you had far too much work to do.

When you’re finally done sequining, you realise that you do need to eat some food, and you want to stretch your legs, so you wander down to the lobby to see if you can get anything from the restaurant.

You head straight to the counter, where a young waiter in all white is standing, counting receipts.

You smile at him. “Hey, the kitchen doesn’t happen to still be open, does it?”

He grins. “You’re in luck, ma’am. We’re just about to close but we had a couple of late comers tonight. What can I get you?”

You order some French fries and a side salad, and he offers to have it brought up to your room. You give him your room number and the details of the tour to charge it to, and head back upstairs with a wave. 

This is a beautiful old hotel, with a huge staircase at the centre of the lobby up to the first floor. You decide to walk it, get some much needed blood flowing into your legs, and catch the elevator from there.

Once you finally make it back to your floor, you step out and make to turn toward your room, when you hear a grunt behind you. You turn to see Jake, fumbling with his keycard, sunglasses low on his nose. He looks up and spots you.

“Y/N! Help me, please. Can’t get into my room.” He grins at you sheepishly, the hard exterior he’s been putting up all day completely gone.

You think it over for a second. You can see from here that’s he beyond drunk, and you feel sorry for him. If it was yesterday, you wouldn’t have hesitated.

You sigh and head over to where he’s just dropped his wallet and phone on the ground and is struggling to pick them back up.

Once he’s upright again, you see that he’s grinning at you, eyes following you, staring even.

You hold out your hand for the keycard and he hands it to you.

“Thanks. Couldn’t get it to work.” He slurs.

“Had a big night, hey?” You ask as you tap the key card and swing the door open.

He laughs. “Was that easy, huh? I must’ve had a big one.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, judging by the fact you’re back here and looking pretty rough before 11pm, I’d say so.”

If you didn’t know him better, you could’ve sworn he blushed at that.

He sits down on the bed and you place his key on the nightstand.

You head for the door.

“Wait, Y/N.” 

You turn, eyebrows raised.

“Can you stay for a minute? I, uh, I need some help.” He gestures to his shoes, embarrassed.

You huff. “Really, Jake? They don’t even have laces.”

He frowns. “I know that. Can’t feel my fingers at the moment. Wouldn’t be able to get the zippers. I’d just end up sleeping with them on.” He giggles.

You walk back over to the foot of the bed. He’s leaning back on his elbows, ankles extended toward you. You kneel down on the floor, unzipping his boots and placing them neatly on the floor next to the bedpost.

You remove his socks for good measure, and he hums as you place his feet back on the floor.

“Thank you.” He murmurs.

“It’s all good.” You reply. You stand up and take a step back, placing his socks on the dresser. “You gonna be alright now?”

He sits up, staring at you again. He just stays there for a few moments, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Finally, he speaks. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

It takes you a second to process what he’s said, and even with his drunken slur, the words make your stomach flip. He’s called you pretty before, in one of his many attempts to get you flustered. This feels different. More… intense, somehow. You think about how you look right now, slippers and sweatpants, still wearing his sweatshirt from earlier, glasses on from sewing, hair air dried and hanging over your shoulders. You certainly don’t feel beautiful.

“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk.”

He hums. “I do mean it. Love looking at you, y’know.”

Your head clears, and you realise you need to take this for what it is. Drunken rambling.

“Okay, Jake. You need to go to sleep. Have you eaten?”

He waves you off. “Yeah, yeah. Had dinner out.”

“Alright. Hop into bed. I’ll turn the lights off when you’re in and then I’m going back to my room.”

He scoots back up the bed, fishing the covers out from underneath him and cocooning himself. He’s still fully dressed, but you’re not about to offer to help him with that.

“You got an alarm set?” You ask him.

“Ah, yeah, think I do.” He digs his wallet and phone out from his pocket and from under the blankets to hand them to you. You place his wallet on the nightstand with his room key and plug in his phone, seeing the little alarm icon on the lock screen.

“Yeah, you do. 9am.”

You put the phone down and flick off the lamp, walking around the bed to get the other one.

You make a spur of the moment decision to grab him some water from the bathroom before you go. As you’re returning to the bedroom, you hear him from under his cocoon.

“Please don’t go.”

You sigh, placing the water next to the bed. “I have to. I’ve got work to finish.” You lie. “And you and I aren’t really on the best of terms right now. I don’t think sober you would want me here.”

He rolls over and frowns at you. “I would. Slept so badly last night without you. Got drunk, still couldn’t get comfortable.” You don’t say anything, so he tries again. “You said you slept badly too. You’ll sleep better in here, with me.”

You feel the same pang of warmth in your tummy before you scold yourself. He’s drunk. He already told you how he feels. You can’t let yourself feel anything more.

“Sorry. I gotta go.”

He grumbles again, and you switch off the lamp and make your way out.

When you get back to your room, the silver tray and cloche are sitting on the floor by your door. You pick it up and make your way inside. You sit quietly for a bit, picking at the cold fries, sipping directly from a mini-bottle of champagne.

You ready yourself for bed, putting on some music and snuggling down under the blankets.

As you close your eyes, you think about how he was right. 

You would’ve slept much better next to him.

Chapter 3

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