Edward
6:03am.
I sat in the back of the car outside of the family mansion and didn't move.
London was already awake, even though I wasn't. The sun hung low and pale in the sky, cutting thin lines of light across the long driveway. Birds were screaming somewhere in the trees, and the house in front of me looked exactly the same as it had yesterday. And the day before that. A billion pounds of stone, marble and glass, and all I could think about was a warm, messy bed in a townhouse three hours north that I'd left at 3am.
Edinburgh to London was an hour and fifteen minutes on a good flight. I'd spent the entire flight annoyed.
