1 chapter 1

6 September 1940, London.

Evelina was walking through the streets of London, she was dressed in a cream-colored dress that reached her calves, the edge of the skirt decorated in white fur. Her hair tied in a braid, her ears decorated with pearl earrings and everything covered in a white fur coat.

She had prepared to visit her boyfriend but once she rang the doorbell no one answered the door, there was only one other place he could be, the library. She happily talked to the library, passing under the Big Ben and jumping a few puddles to not dirty her shoes.

Alec was exactly the kind of man who sleeps two hours a night, smells of cigars and coffee and is in a bad mood for a good part of his life. The man is a writer, currently working on a novel for at least two years.

"Hmm" an annoyed murmur came from the man's mouth, papers scattered on the library table, 10 finished glasses of coffee and one still full in his hand. His hands were stained with ink and sleep deprivation was written all over his face. He woke up around seven in the morning to come and write, and chose the library because he wouldn't be disturbed.

"I'm glad to see you in a good mood" Alec said without even turning, leaning back into his chair. "You found me." He said while rubbing his hand against his face. Evelina was leaning at the entrance of the room, looking at him with a proud smile to see him working so hard.

She walked towards him "Alec, how many coffees did you drink today? Maybe you beat your record of 10 on Friday" she joked, smiling and looking at the empty glasses on the table, scattered and some even spilled. Alec rolled his eyes "Yes, I did it. Now I'm on the eleventh. Why?"

Alastor asked while sipping his coffee. Still trying to write something in his notebook, but it's just a bunch of meaningless words and scribbles. Evelina slowly walked behind him and caressed his shoulders, his muscles tense with stress. "honey, put that pen down." she told him softly, her tome displaying adorable concern towards her boyfriend. Alec sighed, tiredly rubbing his eyes with his ink-stained hand, closing the notebook and putting it away. "I know, I should. Why? Do my eyes have more dark circles than usual?"

She smiled empathetically, looking at him as if she was looking at a child who stayed up doing homework all night. "You know that my love for you is infinite, but you look more terrible than usual." she laughed silently "which is worrying."

He sighed, placing the cup of coffee on the table and resting his head on his beloved's shoulder. "You're right. I just feel pressured right now, I can't sleep. I can't even think straight. I have so many ideas and I can't even write one of them down."

Alec is a tragic writer, the man suffers from anxiety and depression, but also from an extraordinary imagination... and difficult to express. This novel is one of the hardest, the previous ones were a success and everyone is expecting another success, and this is stressing him out like never before.