It was horrible outside.
It was grey and miserable. Despite being after nine in the morning, the sky outside was still laden with deep purple clouds. From inside her small bedroom, she could hear the wind whistling and the cold, icy rain pounding against her windows. Nasty.
The temperatures had taken a stark dip the past couple of days in the English capital and autumn was well and truly over. With a soft mumble, a petite girl rolled over in her bed, the crisp white sheets clinging to her slender limbs and her red hair spreading across her pillow like a copper halo. Today was her day off and she was in no mood to venture outside that morning. Her bedroom was clean and warm but various items of clothing littered her apartment.
Her short camel coloured dress she was wearing last night was draped across her plush sofa in the living room, a man's shirt had been dropped at her bedroom door, one high heel was at the foot of the bed, the other by the bedside table. It was like a trail.
Poppy remembered last night quite clearly indeed. Eamon had turned up, they'd fought, she'd accidentally-on-purpose given him a black eye. As angry as he made her, there was no denying that she was in love with him. He'd hurt her. He'd cut her deeply but that aside, they were slowly making progress and she was sure he knew that he had a lot of making up to do. She fully expected him to shower her with gifts.
With a yawn, she rolled over again, knees pulled up to her chest as she wiggled back under her lavender scented duvet. Poppy had slept like a log, despite her the knuckles of her left hand absently throbbing. She really hadn't meant to punch Eamon as hard as she did. Something deep inside of her just seemed to…snap. It was Jane's fault. That whore was a catalyst but that was a conversation for another time. For now, she was content just to have her boyfriend back.
She hadn't liked being single. It wasn't much fun to spend her Saturday nights alone eating Chinese take out food. Over the past three months, she'd eaten so much that the local Chinese place offered her free prawn crackers. It was hilarious.
Disraeli, her German Shepard, was curled up and fast asleep on her sofa. The dog didn't like Eamon, that much was clear. Poppy had made a mental note to try and cajole her puppy into letting Eamon back into his life. He was due a walk that morning.
Poppy yawned again, still half asleep as she stretched out her hands across her mattress, only to have her fingers come into contact with thin air. He wasn't there. The redhead frowned in her sleep, her hands reaching for a spare pillow as she grunted unhappily, pulling it to her chest and squeezing, having it become a replacement for her boyfriend. Where was he, anyway? If he left, she was going to punch him again. He better be planning something romantic for breakfast.
