Expelled and needing to transfer for his final year, Liam had known immediately where to go. It was the place that'd taken everything from him; that'd ruined him so absolutely it'd twisted his personality beyond recognition.
The place where he'd met...
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Five days.
ㅤFive days remained until project: throw-Liam-to-the-wolf was to take place. Millers had already walked Liam through the plan, and in five days he'd meet with Rottweiler and present him to the police. Knowing Liam's inexplicably vast quantities of luck simply lying around, surely nothing was going to go wrong. Nothing at all.
ㅤLiam was a lobotomised fuckwit for agreeing to this.
ㅤHe didn't know what sort of macho bullshit had possessed him before, since spiting Charlie was obviously held far more importance than not fucking dying. The absolute state of Liam's refined sense of self. It was a miracle he hadn't already perished long ago.
ㅤIf Liam survived this, he was going to sign all personal autonomy away to Charlie.
ㅤOh, but wait, His Excellency fucked that one up, too. Fucking whoops.
ㅤConsidering all of this, it was petty to remain angry at his family whilst knowing the danger tolling overhead. And he couldn't even scold himself for being overdramatic about his odds: his luck was either in a grave deeper than his own, or overshadowed by his sheer chaotic stupidity. He'd probably talk himself into being murdered by a reluctant Grim Reaper if he could.
ㅤLiam shivered as he entered the swamping heat of the café, his body shaking off his nerves. With an almost hospital-like sterility and white/grey interior, it was far unlike the place he worked at. This café was the same one he'd always met his sister in over the years, xenon lights piercing into his retinas as though he were perpetually in interrogation before her. Usually, he was.
ㅤUnlike the bright sheen of sun glaring over the windows the last time he'd been here, it was cold and damp outside. The sky swirled in a constant state of threatening rain, wanting to spit at him. Olivia was waiting in the same place as before, back turned.
ㅤHe hesitated for a moment, staring at the halo of frizz around her usually perfect hair, sabotaged by the weather. He still remembered her youthful tantrum when she'd taken scissors to it as a kid.
ㅤStamping down his nerves, he strolled up to the table and sat across from her, as he had all that time ago.
ㅤ"Hey," he said.
ㅤShe smiled tentatively. "Hi."
ㅤ"How are... things?"
ㅤ"Good."
ㅤ"Ah, good."
ㅤ"Yea."
ㅤLiam lightly drummed on the table.
ㅤ"And... you?" she asked, threading her fingers through the roots of her unruly hair.
