Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPHJF8DVP1QEY6QJ6HFCQQ

The Raven's Nest hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft strains of a jazz quartet playing in the corner. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over the patrons, who huddled in booths or leaned against the bar, their faces half-hidden in shadow. The walls, adorned with old maps and black-and-white photographs, seemed to whisper stories of their own, tales of distant lands and forgotten times. Aurora Carter, known to most as Rory, slipped through the entrance beneath the distinctive green neon sign. She paused, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness, her bright blue gaze sweeping the room. Her black hair, straight and shoulder-length, framed her face, and she wore a leather jacket that had seen better days. The small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist caught the light as she pushed her hair back, a reminder of a childhood long past. She made her way to the bar, her movements fluid and purposeful. Silas Blackwood, the bar's owner, stood behind the counter, his grey-streaked auburn hair and neatly trimmed beard lending him an air of distinguished authority. He moved with a slight limp, a remnant of his past life, but his presence was commanding nonetheless. "Evening, Rory," Silas greeted her, his voice a low rumble. He wore a silver signet ring on his right hand, a constant fixture that seemed as much a part of him as his hazel eyes. "Evening, Si," Rory replied, offering a small smile. "Busy night?" "Busier than usual," he said, glancing around the room. "But nothing I can't handle." Rory nodded, leaning against the bar. She was about to order a drink when a voice from the past cut through the ambient noise, freezing her in place. "Rory? Is that really you?" She turned, her heart skipping a beat. Standing a few feet away was a man she hadn't seen in years. His hair was shorter, his face more lined, but there was no mistaking the familiar features. It was Evan, her ex, the one she had left behind in Cardiff. "Evan," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "It's been a while." He approached, a hesitant smile on his lips. "I can't believe it's you. How long has it been?" "Too long," she replied, her tone betraying nothing of the turmoil beneath. She gestured to the empty stool beside her. "Join me?" He nodded, taking the seat. Silas, sensing the shift in the air, moved to the other end of the bar, giving them space. Evan ordered a drink, and they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Rory studied him, noting the changes time had wrought. He seemed older, more worn, as if life had taken its toll. "You look good," he said finally, breaking the silence. "Different, but good." "Thanks," she replied, her voice steady. "You too." He chuckled, a sound that was both familiar and strange. "I doubt that, but I'll take the compliment." They lapsed into silence again, the noise of the bar filling the void. Rory sipped her drink, her mind racing. She had left Cardiff to escape him, to start anew, and yet here he was, a ghost from her past. "So, what brings you to London?" she asked, keeping her tone light. "Work," he said, shrugging. "Got transferred here a few months ago. It's been... an adjustment." "I can imagine," she said, nodding. "London's a different beast." He smiled, a hint of the old charm in his eyes. "And you? What are you doing these days?" "Working at a restaurant," she said, omitting the details. "Living above this place, actually." "Really?" He glanced around, taking in the bar's eclectic decor. "It's a nice spot." "It is," she agreed, her gaze drifting to Silas, who was busy serving another customer. "The owner is a good friend." Evan followed her gaze, his expression thoughtful. "Seems like a decent guy." "He is," Rory said, her voice firm. "He's been a great help." Evan nodded, his eyes returning to her. "I'm glad you found a place here, Rory. I always knew you'd land on your feet." She met his gaze, searching for sincerity. "Thanks, Evan. That means a lot." They fell silent once more, the conversation stalling as they both grappled with the weight of their shared history. Rory could feel the tension, the unspoken regrets that lingered between them like a shadow. "Do you ever think about Cardiff?" Evan asked suddenly, his voice soft. "Sometimes," she admitted, her mind flickering back to memories of the city, of their time together. "But it's in the past." "Yeah," he said, nodding slowly. "I guess it is." There was a pause, a moment where the past and present seemed to collide, and Rory felt the urge to bridge the gap, to say something that would ease the tension. "I'm sorry," she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "For how things ended." Evan looked at her, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You don't have to apologize, Rory. We both made mistakes." "Maybe," she said, her voice quiet. "But I still regret how it all went down." He nodded, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. "Me too." They sat in silence, the noise of the bar fading into the background as they both grappled with the weight of their shared past. Rory felt a sense of closure, a release of the burden she had carried for so long. "Do you think we could be friends?" Evan asked, his voice tentative. Rory considered his question, weighing the possibility. "I think we could try," she said finally, offering him a small smile. He returned the smile, a hint of relief in his eyes. "I'd like that." They sat together, the tension easing as they talked about lighter things, the conversation flowing more easily now. Rory felt a sense of peace, a feeling that perhaps, despite everything, they could find a way forward. As the night wore on, the bar began to empty, the patrons drifting out into the cool London air. Rory and Evan lingered, their conversation winding down as the clock ticked towards closing time. Silas approached, his presence a comforting anchor. "Time to wrap it up, folks," he said, his tone gentle. Rory nodded, standing and stretching. "Thanks, Si." Evan rose as well, glancing at Rory. "It was good to see you, Rory. Really." "You too, Evan," she said, meaning it. They exchanged a brief, awkward hug, and then he was gone, disappearing into the night. Rory watched him go, a sense of closure settling over her. Silas joined her, his hazel eyes warm with understanding. "You okay?" "Yeah," she said, exhaling slowly. "I think I am." He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good. You deserve it." Rory smiled back, grateful for his presence, for the life she had built here. As she turned to head upstairs to her flat, she felt a sense of hope, a belief that the future held promise, that she could move forward without the weight of the past holding her back.