It really was one of those weeks when the world might as well end because if one more bad thing happened no doubt the apocalypse was on its verge. And that wasn’t being overdramatic either, because she considered herself a sensible person.
In a short sum of days not only had she found her noble boyfriend Lance with another woman, ending his run of nobility, and their relationship. She had also lost her job at Harrods, was days away from being evicted from her London flat, and hadn’t eaten a thing since early morning, the time currently half past two.
But as if that wasn’t bad enough, a hand had just closed over her mouth before she could scream ‘fire’ and a choice of helpful expletives. Then her waist was surrounded, and she was being pulled into a darkened area of the busy train station.
Not one to surrender peacefully, Gwen kicked and bit down upon the fingers that were pressed against her mouth. Two seconds and a gun poked her side ominously.
“Shut it.”
Since she was going to die no matter what, Gwen delivered another swift kick. A howl reached of pain reached her ears, but the gun didn’t slip one bit. Gwen, known to rant and rave when she was especially nervous or terrified, let it out now that her mouth was free to speak. “Oh bloody hell! The week of weeks. First Lance. Then my job lost. No place to live if I don’t get some money soon. And now I’m about to lose any bit of dignity I have left, taken in a dirty stairwell by a man with a gun. Go ahead. Do your worse. Kill me if you must, but don’t think I’ll go quietly.”
He was stupidly wearing a black coat and red shirt, so ridiculous considering it was one of the hottest days yet of the season. She could barely make out his face as she decided you know what…life was the pits at the moment, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be found in her birthday suit at the bottom of the stairs, so Gwen took her heavy purse that her cousin Morgana gave her and swung with all her might, hitting the man square in the face.
He howled in really awful pain, getting Gwen for a second to take pity, before sense took over and she ran onto the first train stopping within the station, colliding with another man, this one a tall handsome stranger who brought out his hands in gentlemanly fashion to keep her from falling forward.
Even yet, wariness unexplainably crept through Gwen’s body. Underneath raven shining hair, he had a smile that made her chill even with the humid summer of England’s muggy day.
“Alright?” He asked with a polished London accent.
Gwen nodded, but felt herself stepping away, glancing down at his hands cautiously as the man let her go. Simultaneously he took a curious look around the busy station before the train made its way to its destination. Strange. He seemed to be looking for something without trying to appear that he was doing so.
Was it the man? Gwen laughed inwardly at that. Of course not. What would this guy want with a wannabe rapist?
“You are quite ravishing and lovely.” His long thin fingers reached up to her hair, touching at the curls. Gwen sidled away as much as she could, but it was a terribly hard task in the overcrowded train. She ended up bumping into a snogging couple who looked at her with annoyance before they continued their inappropriate public display of lips permanently locked. Geesh, what did they do for air?
“I’m Mordred.”
The too handsome man told her with a velvet sway of his mouth. It was a tone so pure and touched by refinement it was just beyond perfect and therefore put her on greater edge.
“Gwen.” She answered offhandedly, feeling something in the pocket of her lightweight short sleeved lavender cardigan that she was wearing over her strapless gillyflower decorated dress. Now that was weird. She started to take it out, but his eyes. Mordred’s glasslike silver-to-black eyes were watching her intently. Nervously Gwen brought her hands out of her pockets, empty, reaching for the loops overhead to steady her body as the train rocked from side to side.
Part I: No Surrender
It really was one of those weeks when the world might as well end because if one more bad thing happened no doubt the apocalypse was on its verge. And that wasn’t being overdramatic either, because she considered herself a sensible person.
In a short sum of days not only had she found her noble boyfriend Lance with another woman, ending his run of nobility, and their relationship. She had also lost her job at Harrods, was days away from being evicted from her London flat, and hadn’t eaten a thing since early morning, the time currently half past two.
But as if that wasn’t bad enough, a hand had just closed over her mouth before she could scream ‘fire’ and a choice of helpful expletives. Then her waist was surrounded, and she was being pulled into a darkened area of the busy train station.
Not one to surrender peacefully, Gwen kicked and bit down upon the fingers that were pressed against her mouth. Two seconds and a gun poked her side ominously.
“Shut it.”
Since she was going to die no matter what, Gwen delivered another swift kick. A howl reached of pain reached her ears, but the gun didn’t slip one bit. Gwen, known to rant and rave when she was especially nervous or terrified, let it out now that her mouth was free to speak. “Oh bloody hell! The week of weeks. First Lance. Then my job lost. No place to live if I don’t get some money soon. And now I’m about to lose any bit of dignity I have left, taken in a dirty stairwell by a man with a gun. Go ahead. Do your worse. Kill me if you must, but don’t think I’ll go quietly.”
He was stupidly wearing a black coat and red shirt, so ridiculous considering it was one of the hottest days yet of the season. She could barely make out his face as she decided you know what…life was the pits at the moment, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be found in her birthday suit at the bottom of the stairs, so Gwen took her heavy purse that her cousin Morgana gave her and swung with all her might, hitting the man square in the face.
He howled in really awful pain, getting Gwen for a second to take pity, before sense took over and she ran onto the first train stopping within the station, colliding with another man, this one a tall handsome stranger who brought out his hands in gentlemanly fashion to keep her from falling forward.
Even yet, wariness unexplainably crept through Gwen’s body. Underneath raven shining hair, he had a smile that made her chill even with the humid summer of England’s muggy day.
“Alright?” He asked with a polished London accent.
Gwen nodded, but felt herself stepping away, glancing down at his hands cautiously as the man let her go. Simultaneously he took a curious look around the busy station before the train made its way to its destination. Strange. He seemed to be looking for something without trying to appear that he was doing so.
Was it the man? Gwen laughed inwardly at that. Of course not. What would this guy want with a wannabe rapist?
“You are quite ravishing and lovely.” His long thin fingers reached up to her hair, touching at the curls. Gwen sidled away as much as she could, but it was a terribly hard task in the overcrowded train. She ended up bumping into a snogging couple who looked at her with annoyance before they continued their inappropriate public display of lips permanently locked. Geesh, what did they do for air?
“I’m Mordred.”
The too handsome man told her with a velvet sway of his mouth. It was a tone so pure and touched by refinement it was just beyond perfect and therefore put her on greater edge.
“Gwen.” She answered offhandedly, feeling something in the pocket of her lightweight short sleeved lavender cardigan that she was wearing over her strapless gillyflower decorated dress. Now that was weird. She started to take it out, but his eyes. Mordred’s glasslike silver-to-black eyes were watching her intently. Nervously Gwen brought her hands out of her pockets, empty, reaching for the loops overhead to steady her body as the train rocked from side to side.
*continued below...
Reply
Leave a comment