Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPC53Q50E3639YXM1Q12VC

Aurora made her way down the narrow, neon-lit streets of Soho, her breath creating soft clouds in the chill London air. The night was young, but she was tired. Being on her feet all day, running errands for Yu-Fei, had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. Lost in thought, she barely noticed the distinctive green sign above the entrance until she was nearly past it. "The Raven's Nest?" she whispered, surprised. She hadn't set foot in this place since she fell out with Silas nearly three years ago. But it was warm, inviting even, and the prospect of sinking into a booth and losing herself for a while seemed too good to pass up. The door creaked open, and the warmth enveloped her as she stepped inside. It was just as she remembered - dim lighting, the smell of aged whiskey and pipe tobacco, the low murmur of voices. And there, behind the bar, was Silas himself, his grey-streaked auburn hair and neatly trimmed beard barely longer than she recalled. He was polishing a glass, his movements slow and precise. He looked up, and their eyes met. For a moment, he just stared. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. "Rory," he said softly, almost reverently. She felt herself flush. "Si," she replied, surprised at the stew of emotions his presence evoked - joy, longing, regret, anger. She looked away, suddenly unsure. "Mind if I...?" "Of course not," he said, gesturing to an empty booth. "Can I get you anything? Usual?" She nodded, sinking into the worn leather. She watched him pour her a double shot of Pappy Van Winkle, the amber liquid catching the dim light. He set it down in front of her, his hand lingering on the glass for just a moment. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he said, sliding into the booth across from her. "What brings you here after all this time?" Aurora took a sip, savoring the warmth as it spread through her. "Long story," she said, and smiled wryly. "How have you been? I always... I always meant to come by, but... well, you know." He shrugged, but she noticed the way his eyes clouded. "I've been alright," he said. "The bar keeps me busy. Ah, basic indisposed." He made a small gesture with his hands, the universal sign of "working." Aurora nodded, looking down at her glass. "Yeah, me too," she said. "Just temping, but it pays the bills, I guess." There was a beat of silence. Then Silas cleared his throat. "I heard you and Eva had a falling out," he said, his eyes searching her face. Aurora stiffened. "Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "She... she betrayed me. Used me to get what she wanted, just like everyone else." Silas nodded, his face sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Rory," he said. "I know how much she meant to you." "Is that why you didn't reach out?" she asked, her voice quavering slightly. "Because you thought I was still with her?" He looked away, his hand tightening on his glass. "No," he said, his voice low. "No, that's not why." Aurora felt her heart sink. "Then why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Rory," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I just... I didn't know what to say. I messed up, and I knew it. I thought... I thought maybe it was better to just let you go." Aurora felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back, looking down at her glass. "You could have tried," she said, her voice low and thick with emotion. "You could have picked up the phone, sent a message, anything." Silas was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he reached out and covered her hand with his own. "I'm sorry, Rory," he said, his voice raw. "I was a fool. I should have tried harder to make things right." Aurora looked up at him, her blue eyes bright with unshed tears. She squeezed his hand, a small, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's alright," she said, her voice soft. "We've both made mistakes. We're here now." Silas nodded, his own eyes glistening. He raised his glass, and she raised hers to clink against it. "To new beginnings," he said. "And old friends," she replied, and they drank. And there, in that dimly lit booth, surrounded by the warmth and the noise and the ghosts of the past, Aurora felt something like hope kindling in her chest. If she and Silas could find their way back to each other after all this time, maybe there was still hope for her, for her future, for everything. Maybe it wasn't too late to make things right, to start over, to become who she was always meant to be. Silas looked at her, his hazel eyes searching her face. "So," he said, his voice gentle. "What do you say we start again? Fresh slate, clean page, all that?" Aurora smiled, and it felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. "I'd like that," she said. "I'd like that a lot." And so they talked, and laughed, and reminisced long into the night, the ghosts of the past drifting away like smoke on the London air. They were never going to be the same people they were before, but maybe that was okay. Maybe it was time to start again, to write a new story, one where they could be better, braver, kinder. And as the night wore on, and the fire burned low, Aurora felt something ease inside her, a tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying. Silas was here, and she was here, and together, they could face anything. Anything at all.