Familiar

Kings Cross station was crowded with masses of hurried Londoners, as was usual on a week day. I fumbled through my jacket, searching for my wallet and the oyster card within, and eventually extracted it from my inside pocket, amongst a pack of tissues and a few loose coins. One of the coins, a pound, dropped to the floor and rolled away, soon lost amidst the hundreds of pairs of shoes and boots and heels and the odd flip flop. I scowled, but quickly resigned to being a potential packet of sweets lighter. Somewhere in the crowd I heard, “Shit, a pound coin, look,” and shook my head ruefully.

I continued pushing my way deeper into the station, and finally reached the escalators that would take me down below into the underground. Taking a moment to rest on the descending metal stairs, I looked around at the swarming crowds, nonchalantly picking out a few interesting faces, as one generally does when taking the tube. A very pretty woman came up the escalators to my right; she had dark red hair and an enchanting complexion. She caught my eyes with her own, for a fleeting second, and I quickly looked frontwards.

Once I was sure she had gone past me, I sighed, and moments later reached the bottom of the moving staircase. I stepped off and, following the signs for the metropolitan line, made my way towards the network of tubes and tracks that would take me home. A few moments later, as I continued walking, I heard a muffled yell amidst the mass of people; “Shit, a pound coin, look,” and frowned. Turning my head towards the voice, I scanned the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face, but to no avail. I sighed again and continued walking.

I reached another set of escalators and once again descended further underground. Humming a tune quietly to myself, I observed the people making their way upwards on the opposing staircase, and spotted a young female with shiny, copper coloured hair. My eyes caught hers and, feeling a strange déjà vu, I gave her a small smile. She beamed back at me enthusiastically, and I felt a small lurch in my stomach. Shaking my head, I looked back down towards the bottom of the staircase, and soon stepped onto the metal platform at the base. A dull golden gleam caught my eye on the floor; “Shit, a pound coin,” I muttered, and attempted to land my foot on it, hoping to drag it along with me to a slightly secluded part of the station so I could pick it up. As I did so, I bumped into someone, and my Londoner instincts led me to apologize immediately, hoping to quickly move on without any conversation.

“Oh, sorry dear,” a soft, friendly female voice spoke to me. I glanced upwards and saw a beautiful woman with curiously familiar auburn hair and bright green eyes smiling at me. I may have stared slightly longer than I had intended to, and as I stuttered, “Oh, it’s- it’s alright,” she blushed slightly. I managed to muster a small smile of my own.