Numbing her Pain

The biting winter air of London is a familiar chill, but tonight feels different. Snow falls in thick, silent sheets as you make your way back to your small apartment, a melting scoop of butternut ice cream your only company. The city lights blur through the falling flakes, and the usual urban symphony is muffled, replaced by the soft crunch of your boots on the accumulating snow. You clutch your new periwinkle journal, a fresh start, a new 'album' waiting to be filled with the music you dream of creating. The thought of escaping your current life, your stagnant relationship with Zayn, fuels a quiet determination within you. As you turn the corner onto your street, the dull, colorless houses of your neighborhood blend into the snowy landscape. Home.
