"C'mon!" He told me, laughter threatening at the edges of his voice, but not at my expense. Pigeons fluttered hurriedly out of our way as we walked briskly towards our destination; the underground train that would take us to Timmy's father's summer home. A summer home in England, I thought with a laugh, regarding the static forecast of poor weather and sunless hours.
Well, I couldn't be that hard on the country. After all, for the past few weeks the always overhanging clouds had thinned, gifting some lunchtimes with a blinding sun. The sun. A smile danced across my lips, threatening it's reveal the next time Timmy tugged on my arm anxiously or when I thought of the timeless tranquility of the lake house that I would enjoy for the next two short vacation months. I sighed lightly and grinned – in truth, I couldn't wait to arrive.
We continued marching through London until our destination came into sight – a mud splattered but distinctive purple subway entrance that courted a flight of stairs that led underground into the continuous noise and crowdedness. I was scared of tripping as we rushed down two, three, four flights of stairs to reach the ticket booths – our train would leave in less than five minutes.
Suddenly I felt my breath catch, and my eyes bugged in shock. My throat felt like someone had pulled the string that closed the opening of a drawstring bag, and every time I tried to take a breath they pulled harder. I halted my steps in the middle of the tile floor, earning several rude remarks and stares as people struggled to get around the blockage I was causing. When he felt the sharp tug on his hand, Timmy turned around, puzzled at the fact that I had stopped. When he saw my predicament he immediately swung around to capture me in his broad grip.
As my vision began to fog I closed my eyes tight in concentration and tried to focus on anything else that would help distract me and return my respiration to its normal state, my lover's arms closed tight around me, his sweater clad form rubbing friction against my woolen pea coat. I shuddered involuntarily and rested my head on his shoulders as he started whispering calming endearments into my ear. Slowly my breath returned, and my body surfaced from its wave of nausea. I sunk into a brief subconscious, focusing on the rhythm emanating from both our breasts, a drum beat that steadily found its way into synchronization. His hands snaked down my arms and grasped my wrists, pulling my hands away from my stomach as his warm figure retreated from mine. I tilted my head upright to meet his gaze. One of his calloused thumbs reached up to wipe away the tears I'd shed. He examined my state once more by glancing deeply into my eyes once more before I nodded in confirmation. He smiled again, though not as strongly as before, and turned to face forward once more. We continued our trek, but at a much slower pace for my condition, and for that I was thankful.