Work Text:
Lucy‘s feet are lead weights, dragging her back, pushing her forward. The streets are deserted at this hour. Automatically, she crosses the street to avoid a shade and her pace quickens. She’s almost home, almost…
There at the end of the block is Arif’s and beyond…
She stops. the compass of her heart swinging wildly.
She tells herself this was bound to happen. The streets of London are mapped in her blood vessels now and it will take a long time to untangle Portland Row from her veins.
She turns, tucking her chin against the freezing wind, and walks home.