I don’t know what happened, but somehow I fell asleep. My body was heavy with the kind of exhaustion that creeps in after too much emotional intensity. As I came back to consciousness, I realized it hadn’t been long. The room was still dim, the scent of coffee lingering faintly in the air. But something was off.
I blinked, my senses sharpening, and the first thing I noticed was the bed, I was still on it, but Liam wasn’t. Instead, scattered across the nearby table was a mess: foil, white powder, a lighter, and, oddly, a bar of Dove soap. The sight jolted me awake, a slow-moving dread beginning to form in the pit of my stomach.
It was chilly in the room, the cool air biting against my skin. That’s when I noticed the balcony door was open, the sheer curtains billowing softly in the breeze. My heart picked up its pace. I sat up quickly, my mind scrambling to catch up with the scene in front of me.
Liam.
I scanned the room, my eyes darting towards the open balcony, and there he was. He stood hunched over the railing, his back to me, his body language unsettling. He was leaning forward, his weight precariously close to the edge. The night sky stretched out behind him, and for a split second, panic gripped me. What was he doing? Was he looking at something, or worse, was he about to do something stupid?
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady, careful not to startle him. “Liam,” I called quietly, my tone cautious but firm, as I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t respond at first, didn’t even flinch. His hat sat low on his head, a small bag hanging around his neck. He looked so distant, as if he was a world away, lost in whatever thoughts had led him out here.
“Liam,” I called again, a little louder this time, inching toward the open door, my pulse pounding in my ears. There was a weight to the moment, like I was standing on the edge of something myself, desperate to pull him back before he slipped any further.
He didn’t move, just stayed hunched over, gripping the railing as the city lights blinked far below.
After what felt like an eternity, Liam finally turned around. The moment his eyes met mine, a cold shiver ran down my spine. He looked hollow, as if his soul had vacated his body, leaving behind only a shell. I had never seen anyone so completely... absent. My heart clenched, and for the first time in a long while, I was genuinely afraid, not just for him, but for what he might do next.
I opened my mouth, and the first words that came out weren’t the ones I had planned. They felt irrelevant to the scene unfolding before me, yet they were all I could muster in that moment. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” The endearment felt strange, unfamiliar on my tongue, but somehow right. It was softer than the panic I felt, an attempt to reach whatever was left of him, to ground him in something gentle.
He blinked at me, as if my words had momentarily pulled him back from wherever his mind had gone. “Nothing,” he muttered, his voice thick and tired. Then, almost like a child caught in the middle of something forbidden, he pleaded, “I want out. They’re not letting me out of the room, Rue.” His words tumbled out, almost frantic, as if justifying why he was standing there, inches from the edge, like he was trapped, desperate for an escape.
I swallowed, taking a step closer, my hands held out in front of me as though approaching a fragile, wounded animal. “Out of the room?” I repeated softly, trying to keep him talking, trying to keep him here. “Liam, you don’t need to go anywhere. I’m right here with you.”
His gaze darted back to the railing, his fingers gripping it like it was the only thing tethering him to this world. He looked so small then, so vulnerable, and the weight of whatever had driven him to this point pressed down on me too.
