Dreams of bonds

Dreams of bonds

As we walk through the stoney path, we are laughing at weird shaped onions.My clammy from-nervous-sweating hands are clasping onto your dry long fingers.

We exchange cheeky winks and lustful grins with sprinkles of flirtation afloat.

I have burger breath with leftover fries in my bag but you...you don't give a shit about that.I'm your girl and all you wanna do is accompany me thru the disco nights and kebab take-outs.

We're past the stage of carefully applied mascara and clean blazers, yet when I am on my way to see you, I still make the effort like its the first date.

The 242 is coming and we're both running for it. we're on our way to Leicester square to view the lights of youth (and clubbing!).As our feet clammber to the top deck I trip up but you lift me up and we both giggle like seven year old girls.

My side fringe gets in the way and you sweep it from my eyelid. We sit at the back and we both fight for the window seat, then you finally...give it up to me.

Our talk of smelly onions, dodgy nollywood films and rising costs of london are precious.