Edward
I was pissed. Properly, train-induced, London-commuter pissed.
It was my fault. Benjamin had told me exactly which platform to go to. He had even written it down for me. But I was in a rush, and I 'knew' what I was doing, and I thought missing the train by thirty minutes wouldn't hurt.
It did. It hurt a lot. I ended up waiting an hour for the next one, standing on a platform that smelled like rain and wet concrete, watching the board flicker and change like it was mocking me.
Could anyone blame me though?
I had errands.
I had seen a beer glass online three days ago and knew, with absolute certainty, that Connor needed it. It was thick, heavy, amber glass, with "SCOTLAND" etched in gold around the rim. Ridiculous. Perfect. So I'd gone to get it.
