𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮...
In which a 28 year old American woman finds herself entangled with one of Dublin's biggest celebrities.
First book of the Auden & Cillian series
TW: Age Gap, Mature Themes, Sexual Content
CILLIAN MURPHY x O...
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The next day, after Brigid had left, Auden found herself alone again. She felt antsy, her legs twitching and aching for something to do. The quiet was too loud.
Auden sat curled up on the couch, staring at the flickering glow of a candle on her coffee table. The shadows danced against the walls, stretching and shifting, but no matter how much she tried to focus on them — on anything — her mind refused to settle.
She should have been tired. She was tired.
But exhaustion didn't stop the scrambling thoughts, the ache of grief, the suffocating weight of everything she hadn't dealt with.
Her father. Cillian. Patrick. The feeling that she was constantly caught between them — between her past, her present, the version of herself she was supposed to be but couldn't quite reach.
She rubbed her hands over her face, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes until colors bloomed behind them.
Breathe.
She tried.
But it never quite felt like enough.
Her apartment felt too small, too empty, the walls closing in as the air thickened.
She considered calling Brigid, but she felt too bad for bothering her a second night in a row. Considered texting Cillian — but what would she even say? He hadn't called her back. Her voicemail had been met with silence.
Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real.
A sharp inhale. A trembling exhale.
She buried herself deeper into the couch, gripping the blanket around her shoulders like it could hold her together. But the truth settled in the pit of her stomach, heavy and suffocating.
She wasn't holding it together at all.
Auden got up from the couch, practically sprinting to the bathroom. A shower would help — cold water would sharpen her. It would be like a slap in the face.
But as she pulled back her shower curtain, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror. It was enough to make her pause. Auden looked terrible. Her dark hair, oily and unbrushed, clung to her temples. Blueish bags hugged her red-rimmed eyes, making her skin look gray, lifeless. Auden leaned in closer, staring her reflection in the bathroom mirror, fingers white-knuckling the counter. She was unraveling.
Maybe not in an obvious, catastrophic way — she still went to work, still showed up — but internally? She was coming apart at the seams.
She tilted her head to the side, watching her long waves move across her face with her, stringy and unkempt.
Auden's hair had always been wild. Long, untamed auburn waves that refused to be controlled, no matter how many times she tried to smooth them down. It curled unpredictably at the ends, some pieces frizzing, others falling in perfect ringlets, as if it couldn't decide what it wanted to be.
