Hi! Thanks for reading. I wanted to let you know that there is a playlist for this story. Each chapter has its own song. The playlist is in my profile

The song for this chapter: Touch the clouds

2010

I kept my hood pulled closed, the wind biting my face as I made my way down the street. It was getting close to spring in London, the temperature turning up. But I should have known by now that despite my years to become adjusted to the weather I always expected it to become warmer than it was. I guess I would never stop hoping for the warmer temperature. February had only just ended, leaving just one month for my lease to the apartment. I really needed to leave that hell hole.

It had been difficult to find a place that hit all of my needs. But there had been an advertisement in the paper not all that long ago for an apartment closer to the center of London, closer to my job. Or, well, jobs. And it was certainly in a safer spot than my current residence.

I walked past the entrance to a cute little sandwich place, already impressed with the neighborhood. I stood in front of the door. I looked down at the newspaper in my hand, checking to be sure the address was correct. It was.

I reached forward, taking the knocker in my hand before banging in on the door and releasing it. I waited there for a moment, looking around the street, watching as people passed by, entering and exiting the sandwich shop. I looked up and noticed a shadow move away from the window above, the curtains fluttering gently.

The opening door drew my attention and revealed an older woman with a friendly smile.

"What can I help you with, dear?"

I smiled at her. By the small bit of flour that was on the woman's hands, I knew I had interrupted her during baking, but the smile on her face was genuine.

I held up the newspaper, making sure the ad was facing towards her. "I'm here about the flat. Is it still available?"

The woman's face fell just a little, though she kept her friendly smile. "Oh, no, I'm afraid that it's already been rented out."

I nodded, keeping the disappointment out of my expression. "Ah, well, thank you. Nice to meet you."

I rolled the newspaper up, turning away from the door and stepped away. Before I could get farther, I heard the woman's voice again.

"There is the lower level."

I turned back to the woman, not letting my hopeful feelings get the best of me. The woman's own hopeful look didn't help. I had been sifting through advertisements for months now, I was tired of looking for a place to live.

"A second apartment?" I asked, stepping closer to the doorway once more.

"I stopped advertising it ages ago. Couldn't get anyone interested. It's small, might need a little freshening. Will you look at it?"

I studied the woman as she waited for my answer. She wasn't lying, she hadn't been able to get anyone interested, but there was a slight wrinkle next to her eyes. She hadn't told the whole truth about why she couldn't rent it out. There was nothing malicious in her expression, and I got the sense that the woman might have just wanted a bit of company for a few moments.

"It's worth a look," I told her, letting my smile grow bigger. Even if the flat wasn't suitable for me, I had the rest of the day off and could use a bit company. I was tired of people banging on my door asking for the drug dealer that had lived in my apartment before me. Things had become scary far too quickly, and I needed out.

She stepped inside and I followed her, closing the door behind me.

"My name is Martha, dear. Martha Hudson."

"Lovely to meet you, Ms. Hudson. I'm Aster Lewis."

She walked past the stairs that led upwards and around to a set of stairs that led down.

"Call me Mrs. Hudson, Ms. Lewis. That's an unusual name," Mrs. Hudson commented as we took the stairs down. "A flower isn't it?"

"It is," I answered. "My family rather likes naming their children after flowers."

"Oh," said Mrs. Hudson in a delightful tone as she reached the small landing at the bottom of the stairs. "I always did love when everyone in the family has names that relate to each other. Here we are."

Mrs. Hudson took out a set of keys from her pocket and opened the door. She stepped inside and I followed her.

The flat was pretty basic. A living room that was just big enough for a couch, a chair, and maybe a television, a bedroom of about the same size that would comfortably fit a bed and some bookshelves, and a bathroom on the smaller side. The kitchen was perfect for a person living on their own, and the walk-in closet was large enough for all the clothes I had. The only thing was the smell.

"It's lovely. But it smells a bit like damp," I said, turning to Mrs. Hudson apologetically.

"I know, I think it just needs a good cleaning. If you decide you want to rent it, I'd be happy to help with that."

I wandered around the space again, trying to imagine where I would put all my things. Would it be big enough? It was in a great location, the tube station was only a few blocks down, there was a great park nearby, and something about Speedy's Sandwich shop made me feel right at home.

"You said the other apartment has already been rented," I said, turning back to face her. "Are they good tenants?"

"Oh, the boys upstairs? They can be a bit of a handful sometimes, but they mean well."

I saw the truth of what she said in her eyes. But I still had my doubts. When I had rented my current apartment, the landlord had said the same thing, and I believed him. I should have known better and I wasn't going to take it at face value this time.

"A handful? I'm not sure Mrs. Hudson. The place I'm currently at never told me about the problems that are obviously going on there."

Mrs. Hudson gave me a pityingly look. "I'm sorry to hear that, you seem like such a nice young lady. How about you come upstairs and meet them?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. At all the other places I had looked at not one landlord had offered for me to meet the other tenants before I gave them a final answer.

"I think that would help a lot, actually," I said, smiling widely at her. "I appreciate it."

"This way, dear." Mrs. Hudson turned back to the door, and I went up the stairs as she locked it. "They have the upper levels. I think they're both in."

She led me up the stairs and she stepped through the open door into a living room. I followed, finding that the room was rather messy, strewn about with papers and books and other knick-knacks. There was a couch against the wall, a table by the windows, and two comfortable looking chairs facing each other in front of the fireplace.

A man was sitting in the chair to the left, a newspaper in his hands. He was blond, a long nose, but a face that just screamed 'friendly.'

"Oh, John, good. This is Ms. Lewis. She's thinking of renting the lower level. I thought it would be good for her to meet the two of you."

John put his paper down and stood as I stepped further into the room so I could see him better. "Nice to meet you," he said, reaching forward to shake my hand.

"You as well," I said with a smile.

I took a moment to look at him, to gauge what kind of person he was. He stood straight, something I had only seen military men do. He held his chin high, giving the illusion that he was taller than he actually was. The natural way he did it told me that it was common for him to do this. He was the same height I was, 5 feet seven inches tall, and a stocky build.

The grip of his handshake also told me that he was some sort of professional; the firm way he had taken my hand, the one shake he gave before letting go quickly, but not immediately. He was highly educated, I could see that in his eyes.

As I looked him over, I watched as his eyes quickly scanned my body, gauging my attractiveness, before looking back at my eyes. A few seconds after our gazes met, I saw surprise in the raising of his eyebrows, the crinkle beside his eyes, and the faint sign of discomfort in the way his lips pressed together.

"Oh, my god," he said, leaning just a little ways forward to study me more closely. "You have that same spark in your eye. You're just like him."

What? His comment threw me completely off guard. I was like who? What spark?

"I'm sorry," I said, making sure the confusion in my voice was easy to read. "I'm just like who?"

"I think he's referring to me," said a voice farther to my left. At hearing it, my whole body tensed up. Only my head and eyes moved to see the man who spoke from just inside the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are Sherlock! I was just telling John that Ms. Lewis here was thinking about renting the downstairs flat."

But Sherlock didn't answer her. He just watched me, his eyes flitting this way and that as he cataloged each detail I hadn't thought to try to hide. Finally, his eyes flickered back to mine.

"Hello, Astra."