She really should have apparated home.
The cardboard box she'd packed hadn't seemed so heavy but now that she'd been carrying it for a while, her arms were hurting. It didn't help that she'd had a drink - not a huge one - but enough to make Farley feel a bit fuzzy. It was dark by now but it wasn't late, only around nine in the evening or so but it had stopped raining. While she wasn't new to London, the way the city lights reflected off the puddles always fascinated her.
Ambling back to her flat, a sudden wave of homesickness washed over her and it made her hesitate, stopping suddenly. London wasn't all that different from New York. There were still rude people and bars and museums and history but the lack of a decent pretzel still boggled Farley's mind.
She crossed a road as she followed a gaggle of people, her pretty face creasing in exertion as she hoisted the box filled with things she'd stolen from the office - a stapler, some push pins, notebooks, a calendar, Patricia's weekly supply of tea. Farley didn't even
like tea but it was this small act of rebellion that kept her spirits buoyed up because now that she was free from the Ministry, doubt began to seep in.
Had it been too risky to quit without lining another job up? Probably. Realistically, she didn't know what she'd been thinking. It had been keeping her up at night for weeks until she'd had the courage to hand in her resignation. Farley would also be lying if she said she wasn't upset by the lack of fanfare. No leaving party, no good luck wishes, no cards, zilch. In hindsight, she'd made a bit of clanger but she was treating this as a fresh start.
"Ow!"
Not looking where she was going, she collided into something solid and her box fell to the floor with a
smash! "Oh no," Farley gasped, her dark eyes wide as her hands flew to her face in horror. "My houseplant!" She lamented, seeing Terry the Fern lopsided with his cute little ceramic pot complete a crack down the side.
Dropping to her knees and ignoring the people passing by as they were ignoring her, she hastily began to repack her things, more morose than was really necessary. Farley didn't have any pets and Terry was the closest thing she'd had to a boyfriend in six months. "Sorry," she mumbled, flustered as a pair of hands loomed in front of her vision. "Thanks," she smiled, brushing her hair back from her face with a heavy sigh, trying to straighten herself up with what little dignity she had left as she dusted off her knees.
"That's my fault," Farley added hastily as she rubbed her shoulder, she must have hit the person with more force than she realised. Looking up, she squinted, head tilted in the darkness. Realisation dawned.
"Noah?" she blurted out in evident surprise, her eyebrows raising so high, they threatened to disappear into her hairline. She grinned. "Hi!" She gushed, delight lighting up her pretty facial features. He was still as tall as she remembered him being but what had it been, eight, ten years? Still dazed, she stared at him to make sure it was who she thought it was. "What are you doing here?" She asked with a laugh, thinking he could say the same thing about her, his reappearance effectively putting an end to her downward spiral.
@Noah Haas 
