𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 .𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

2 ; Wit

"Please hold on to me, girl I need your love. You were sent to me, from the skies above."
- 6

~

Your P.O.V

Birmingham.

A quiet yet chaotic city that I ran to, away from a different quiet yet chaotic city. It seems as if I were attracted to the nostalgia, it was only a matter of time before I suffocated from inhaling it's toxic memories.

A place I once called home never settled right with me. I had no family, I was only useful to them when the lot was out of quids. I decided to move for a change but I suppose I've practically outrun nothing, the only difference was different people and a trembling fear that seem to settle on all their faces.

I walked down the paved road, passing by shops and bakery's. I walked past a infamous pub I've overheard pedestrians talk about; The Garrison. I shrugged my shoulders, I'm not much of a drinker so I wasn't very intrigued by it.

There wasn't much to Birmingham but a gloomy state followed with the people. I hear the loud chatter around start to simmer down until the only echo left where the clicks of my heels that paved the now empty road. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, looking around the once crowded block to a now ghost town.

A faint sound of clicks from horse shoes coming from afar, made my body come to a stop. I tried to make out of which direction the sounds where coming from but the sound bounced around the buildings, making me utterly confused.

There surely must be some crazed ghost story about this town that made the people whimper away into near buildings or homes.

But in the intense fog, a beautiful gray horse emerged into sight followed along with a lot of other nice horses.

This is quite different from my old home.

Riding the amusing creatures were well-dressed men with slicked back hair covered by their flat hats. They all shared the same intense look on their faces, as if they were all carved from the same wood. Their formation seemed careless yet practiced, the gray horse lead by a man with unique blue eyes one couldn't forget while the rest formed behind him in a triangle like form.

Beside him was a younger man with a smooth face, a pick playing around in his mouth. On the other side was a older-yet young- handsome man with a scruff mustache above his lips that puffed on a thick cigar.

I watched as he lifted his hand up to his mouth, taking a last puff before placing the cigar between his fingers and slipping it away from his lips.

I was focused on picking out their outstanding features that I hadn't realized they had all come to a halt. I was amused by these men, it's like no one I've seen since my arrival here in Birmingham. Men like them would surely be known around in an area like this, they stood out like a sunflower in a barn field.

Their clean suits, the chains that hit against their fit chests. The flat hats seemed like a trademark, they all shared almost everything in common.

"Oí, as much as I'd love to sit here and stare at a beaut such as yourself. Could you possibly do us a favor and move out the way love? Us men have work to do," The scruff mustache said, taking a slow puff fro his cigar before tossing it onto the ground.