☆London, 1982☆

Brisk wind hit your skin as you pulled out your cigarette. The flame of the old metal lighter you'd nicked from your dad flickered against your hand as you tried to light the cigarette. fuck, of course it wouldn't bloody light. It was just your luck to be stood up by some dick in a corsa, and now you were left walking around the dark cold streets of London aimlessly - not wanting to return home yet- your hair a mess, lipstick staining your cheek where you'd been nudged when applying it, and now the bloody cigarette wouldn't light. Lovely. You should ring someone, but what was the point? You'd rather make it on the news that be ridiculed by a friend forced to come get you.

James saw her from inside his car. His window rolled down as the cold air stung his face and tousled his hair, but thats how he liked it. His brows furrowed when he saw the girl wandering the dark street, it wasn't exactly safe for anyone in London at this time of night, let alone some girl with tousled hair and lipstick stained cheeks. The night wasn't very cold but she must've been bloody freezing anyway, she was scantily clad in some small skirt, a leather jacket three times too big that fell off her shoulders, and a tiny sort of top. He adjusted his glasses as though she was some trick of the light and slowed his car down. God, he must've looked like a creep, but he couldn't just leave her walking about aimlessly, james wasn't that much of a dick.

James slowed right down and stuck his head partially out the window when he reached the girl who he could now see was looking in frustration at a bent cigarette. "Uh, I'm sorry, but are you alright?" James began. The least he could do was offer the girl some sort of jumper, right?