b'house of cardsall it took was a gentle breeze,a single gust from autumn,beating across the rooftop of our humble flat.behind stifled laughter, i shuddered,an unforgiving chill traveling down the back of my neck.bitter winds almost seemed to wake the sleeping city of London,blowing just enough to disturb the blonde hair draped over thin pajamas,and just enough to turn your head.the warmth of your leather jacket was the sweetest valentine.discreetly slipping over my shoulders and blanketing a trembling figure,your inaudible gesture spoke the loudest. together, with tired eyes, we refused sleeps lovely enticements and instead dreamt awake,as wishing on imaginary stars in an empty sky seemed easier than retiring to bed if it meant leaving you.cold toes dangling over an oblivious bakery,we sipped cheap coffee in chipped teacups with lipstick stainsand pitied anyone who hadnt seen London from a rooftop.the eerie hush of the city immobilized romantic advances,so swiping through albums of our favorite artist,it wasnt long before i was comforted by your sweet tenor, harmonizing with catchy love songs and passing taxis,and accompanied by a symphony of shrieking pigeons.the most beautiful cacophony.glancing down endless flights of stairs stories away from our perch,i felt one strong arm grasp my waistwith a whisper promising it would never let me go.| 32 |'