The dark and now nocturnal streets are enveloped in the dampness of the recent storm that blanketed London for two hours, turning the supposedly romantic scent of a 14th February into an umbrella-less figure. The billboards and neon tubes play in a myriad of colours on Regulus’ car, which is parked on a street of dubious knowledge, replete with pawn shops and ramshackle pubs with tattered and dilapidated signs of figures in different positions around it.

A specific dead end with brick walls scarce of paint due to antiquity, is the source of various noises coming from two figures, male as well as female. Regulus’ hoarse voice wheezes against your collarbone, his breath trapped by the melody of the wine, drawing droplets against your skin while the material of his trousers gets taut and dishevelled against your figure.

A gigantic bouquet of black Dahlias wrapped in shiny blue cellophane paper rests carelessly near a puddle, brushing against his monk straps, his breathless form with a blush of exhaustion being a contrast to your calm and tired appearance covered in cheap red lipstick that you present after a busy day in the arms of as many as you could⎯or rather, as many as your boss forced you to be with.

“You should come with me,” He suggests, but a certain annoyance invades his blurred expression by the long and defined locks of curls covered in fixing gel over his forehead “I don’t even think your pay is the minimum, I could do better, if you would just let me⎯”

His sudden instinct is to guide his calloused hands to the weak point of your lower back, with the intention of having you closer, but only a reminder that he is just another client, do you even feel anything for him? Not just a source of pleasure, not just fun, at least not anymore.

Something more, as tempting as unattainable, something that he despite all his finances can’t have⎯he doesn’t know about life beyond the bubble that his parents were willing to instill in him for twenty-three years.

It is the most expected thing.

“You decide, you can stay here surrounded by dirt and food probably made apart from rats, or come with me, to something called decency.”