A few weeks later, after countless hours of revisions and late nights spent pouring my heart into my manuscript, I felt I needed to celebrate. It had been a long, arduous journey, but finally seeing my work take shape gave me a sense of accomplishment. So, I decided to head to a local bar with a few friends to mark this milestone.
The bar was buzzing with energy, laughter ringing out as groups of friends celebrated their own victories. I found a small table near the back and ordered a drink, feeling the warmth of the atmosphere wrap around me like a comforting blanket. I was lost in thought, reflecting on how much had changed in my life recently when the door swung open, and a wave of cool air rushed in.
And there he was—Liam.
He stumbled in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me. I felt my heart skip a beat, a mix of surprise and something deeper—a flicker of the emotions I thought I had laid to rest. He looked a little disheveled, and it was clear he had been drinking. I watched as he made his way to the bar, his posture slumping as he leaned against it for support.
I felt a surge of conflicting emotions: a longing to reach out, to say something, and yet a firm resolve that I had moved on from him. Still, I couldn’t help but keep glancing over, caught between curiosity and apprehension.
Just as I was about to turn my attention back to my friends, I saw Liam’s gaze drift toward me again. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the noise around us faded. He made his way over, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as he approached my table.
“Hey, Elena,” he slurred slightly, leaning against the table for balance. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hey, Liam,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “How have you been?”
“Better now,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “What are you celebrating?”
I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should share my news with him. But there was something about his presence, the way he looked at me with those familiar eyes, that made me want to open up. “I finished a chapter of my manuscript,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could second-guess myself.
His eyes lit up, and for a moment, the earlier haze of drunkenness faded from his face. “That’s amazing! I knew you could do it. I always believed in you,” he said, sincerity lacing his words.
I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest at his encouragement. “Thanks, Liam. That means a lot.”
There was a brief silence, an unspoken acknowledgment of the time that had passed between us and the things left unsaid. “Can I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty chair across from me.
“Sure,” I replied, feeling my heart race as he settled in. The familiar scent of him, a mix of cologne and something distinctly him, filled the air between us.
As he talked, I couldn’t help but notice how easily the conversation flowed. We caught up on life, on the city, and on our dreams. I laughed at his jokes, and for a moment, it felt like old times—before everything had changed, before we had grown apart.
But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of his condition became more apparent. He was clearly intoxicated, and I felt a pang of concern. “Are you okay to drive home?” I asked, my voice laced with genuine worry.
“Of course I am!” he insisted, but the slur in his words and the way he swayed slightly suggested otherwise.
“Liam, I think you should let me drive you,” I said firmly, the protective instinct rising within me. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
YOU ARE READING
How to escape reality
Teen Fictionthis is a story about half siblings who are separated from each other they haven't seen each other since they were young elena and liam are only siblings on the father's side elena is with her mother and liam is with their father, when elena is 18 a...
