So, I was sat in front of the window batting away the blinds in this exact weather and this came to me. IDEK.

Thanks to recoilandgrace x


The clouds were fractious above. Billowing forms of whites, greys, sometimes blacks all on canvas of brilliantly clear and deep blue. It was the kind of day that only the East coast was privy to; occasional radiant sunshine peeping behind the clouds, warming when the biting cold wind had settled from its blustering force.

Gillian sat down, pulling the lapels tighter together and tucking her scarf under her chin. She wrapped her fingers around the paper coffee cup and watched the clouds roll by, white tumbling over blue.

She smiled. She loved this weather. As much as she liked wearing the summer dresses and the sandals and the tank tops, she was a winter girl at heart. The chunky knits, the long coats, the bright scarves.

Right now, as she sat warming her fingers on her skinny double-shot hazelnut mocha, it was perfect. Perfect.

Her gaze fell to the approaching figure. His blazer jacket blowing around him -much to his annoyance - as he rounded the fountain. He rolled the papers into a baton against the wind, keeping it tight to his chest with a hand bunching his jacket.

She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, knowing the effort would prove futile when the wind rose again from its current calm.

The sun suddenly appeared, intense summer heat making her regret the choice of the midnight blue overcoat.

He sauntered around the empty tables and chairs, his predatory gait making him agile and light on his feet regardless of his age.

He pulled a chair out and sat down, reaching between his legs to pull it forwards before adapting his usual slouch. He looked over her shoulder to the packed coffee shop, "You're bloody nuts, you know that?"

"I know," she grinned, her hair whipping across her face again. "They come?"

"Yeah," he said, making no effort to pass the papers.

"Can I have them?"

"You sure?"

She gave it a thought, it deserved that much at least. The answer hadn't changed, wouldn't change, but it deserved another second of thought. "Yes."

He passed her the papers, reaching into his inside pocket and offering a pen.

She took them and thumbed through the pages, finding the dotted line for her signature.

She touched pen to paper, stalled for just a second, then scribbled her name and date.

The wind picked up again, blowing the papers under her hand and aiding in her returning the pile to its original sequence.

"Congratulations," Cal announced as she laid the pen on the top sheet. "I now declare you divorced. You may now never have to kiss the bastard again."

"Cal..." she warned but returning his grin.

"You okay?"

She gave a deep breath, nodded.

"Good. Pub?"

She gulped down the rest of her mocha, "Pub."