The train journey you’re currently getting through is multiple hours long. You’re currently on hour one of five. You’re sitting next to a sleeping man, he looks like he’s had a tired day. The man’s hair is a raven black, his eye colour is a mystery to you, as his eyes are shut.

The train is running along the coast, the glistening sea shining underneath. It’s late spring, the weather is finally warming up. Surprisingly sunny for England. You read a book to pass the time, you didn’t watch anything on your phone as it might wake him up, bad choice to forget to bring earbuds.

The train bumps along the train tracks in an almost relaxing way, the whole carriage is quiet. You’re zoned out thinking about it when you hear a groan beside you. When you turn around, it’s the man stretching.

“How long until the last stop..” His voice has a thick Russian accent. His eyes are a beautiful crystal blue, his jawline sharp. You don’t glance down, fearing that his body might look even better. Your mouth hangs open as you try to respond.

“Around four hours.” He nods and just stares out the window. And you read your book. The train ride is long and uneventful, barely anything happens, apart from the man getting multiple calls and speaking Russian in them.