A/N: So for my AP class, we were given the first sentence of a story, and were challenged to write a story based upon that. This was my first idea, and eventually turned into a fanfiction, but it wasn't long enough, and I got a better idea. So enjoy!
She awoke with a start, the line between dreams and daylight still blurry, and abruptly sat up. Reminding herself quickly that it was simply a nightmare, that they were safe now, she remembered what day it was, and climbed out of bed, not even noticing the empty half beside her.
A few minutes later, she padded into the kitchen. She was wearing her favorite sundress with her chocolate brown hair pushed into a bun, and a smile was on her face. IT had been several years since she had stopped dyeing her hair, and the brown locks suited her well. As she walked across the sunny floor to the kitchen island, a dark blue mug was pushed across to her, and she gave him a grateful smile.
He was the same as ever, skinny, brown eyes, insane hair. He was wearing a suit—he was going to spend most of the day at work, though this morning he was free. He grinned back at her, pulling the mug back as she went to grab it.
"Hey! I just woke up. Be nice." But she was laughing as she reached across the counter to pull it back, ruining the effect of her scolding. As she pulled the mug towards herself, he pretended to lose his balance and stole a kiss above the counter, though he had let go of the mug nearly as soon as she had grabbed it. She pulled away quickly, drinking her tea, though she was still grinning.
A few minutes passed before he left the room, coming back with a large binder in his hands. A manuscript—this is what he was to spend the day rereading and editing, his second novel, supposedly detailing an ordinary man's extraordinary dreams of a blue box. When he had been writing it, she had often found him pacing throughout the flat, rubbing his hands through his hair, his suit and tie that he insisted on wearing—he said that they helped him to concentrate, though she greatly doubted it; she assumed that he simply missed being able to wear suits all the time without being questioned—crooked. When he had finished, a celebration had promptly taken place. Now, he looked proud as he pushed the manuscript onto the counter, leaning against it as he looked at her.
"So, considering we have about two hours—well, an hour and fifty minutes…That is, an hour and a half actually, because I have to come back to retrieve—" he cut himself off at her look, the one that meant he was about to start rambling at a time that it wasn't needed. "What are we doing, Mrs. Smith?"
"Well, Mr. Smith, I thought we could go get some chips."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
They walked cheerfully as they passed the storefronts, her leaning into his side as they clasped hands. The air was filled with the sound of people chattering happily around them, and the sky was a bright blue. Taxis were full of tourists clicking pictures of Big Ben, the London Eye, telephone boxes still on the pavement. She closed her eyes and smiled, loving everything about it.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Entering their flat once again, they each shoved their last few chips into their mouths, tossing the containers into the waste basket as they grinned at each other slyly.
Slipping on the glasses he thought made him look so smart, he headed towards the door, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he passed. Wrapping him into a hug, she turned her head so that the kiss was no longer on her cheek.
A few seconds passed before he pulled away and, rather reluctantly, shut the door behind himself.