Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNEY1A17TAPQC0770DGMQXS

The Raven's Nest smelled of aged whiskey and yesterday's tobacco smoke, the kind of scent that clung to clothes and memories. Aurora leaned against the polished mahogany bar, tracing the crescent scar on her wrist absently as she waited for Silas to pour her usual. The green neon glow from outside painted ghostly reflections in the mirror behind the liquor bottles, turning the amber amber liquids into molten glass. "You're early," Silas remarked, sliding the gin across without looking up. His signet ring caught the dim light as he wiped the counter with practiced, economical motions. "Didn't feel like being alone today," she admitted, swirling the ice in her glass. The burn helped. The door creaked, letting in a gust of damp London air. Aurora didn’t look up until she heard the sharp intake of breath two stools down. "Laila?" That name punched through her ribs. She hadn’t been called it in years—not since Cardiff, not since before Evan. The voice was older, deeper, but unmistakable庞 Slowly, she turned. "Rowan." It was him, and it wasn’t. The gangly limbs he’d grown into broad shoulders, and the nervous energy that used to make him tap his foot had settled into a stillness that didn’t quite fit. His hair, once perpetually messy, was trimmed close to his scalp. But it was his eyes that undid her—the same green, but dulled, before they'd held the brightness of late-night laughter and overly ambitious plans. Ten years. She watched his gaze flicker over her—the black hair now neat instead of riotous, the tailored blazer in place of band shirts, the way she held her drink like someone who knew how to take her time with poison. A stranger mirrored back at both of them. Rowan exhaled sharply and shook his head. "Jesus. I almost didn't—Silas, you could've warned me." Silas polished a glass, unreadable. "Wouldn’t rob you of the moment." Rowan slid onto the stool beside her with a familiarity that didn’t exist anymore. Up close, Aurora noticed the scars along his knuckles—thick, raised—and smelled the old cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket. A far cry from the boy who’d sworn off smoking after his grandfather’d father died of lung cancer. "You look…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. "So do you." She sipped her gin. "Different." A laugh barked out of him. "Understatement." Silence settled between them, dense as the shadows in the corner. Aurora traced the rim of his untouched pint. "How'd you end up here?" "Delivery job." "You—" He blinked. "You were top of Wales’ brightest legal wunderkinds. What happened to barrister Aur—" "Things change." cold crawled up her spine. Even now, softened by liquor and years, still stung sharp enough to make her fingers tighten on her glass. Rowan’s jaw worked. "Rachel? The trial?" A shrug. "Dad wanted barrister. I didn’t." Across the bar, Silas discreetly turned up the jazz record player—Billie Holiday’s mournful croon wrapped around them. Rowan dragged al across his face. "Listen, about—" " "Don’t.," she cut in softly. The crescent scar on her wrist burned phantom pain. "We don’t owe each other explanations." He opened his mouth, shut it. Their knees brushed accidental Under the counter, —electric reminder of a thousand nights spent pressed together in library corners, sharing headphones, notes. He used smell like cheap aftershave and ink. Now it was leather and something medicinal This Rowan didn’t scribble hastily on papers wore rings on every finger—heavy silver that would’ve punched holes in his younger self’s arguments about integrity. "You really don’t?" Aurora finished her drink. Rise."Never said that. But what’s the point?" Difference is too wide now." His laugh was bitter. "Course Time skipped us.." Outside, neon blurred through the rain-streaked windows. She remembered the last time they’d had beers together—Cardiffen pub near campus, his restless fingers drumming anxiety while she pretended not to notice. Then he’d vanished after law school like smoke. Rowan broke first "You know why I left?" "Do I want to?" "Probably. might punch me." She snorted. "Try." The pause lasted three heartbeats. "I loved you," Rowan said quietly. The record scratched in her chest."Then you had shit timing." Silas poured another gin without asking. Rowan twistedy ring around his thumb. "Waited for you to call after Rachel’s trial Want to know why didn’t ?" "Because lawyers don’t beg." "I’m not"—sharp inhale—"the man you left." Aurora swallowed. "Neither I" the girl." Both stared at their reflections in the backbar’r, indistinct shapes warped by imperfections in old glass. Viz blurred outlines of people erased rewritten by years. After long moment, Rowan pushed up from stool. Ducked his head like he used to when nervous. "Still got thirst for chaos?" "No,, now charge." That earned half-smile. He rummaged for wallet—hands deft as when he’d stolen library books for her. "Still hate goodbyes?" "Vocally." Noddingpenny dropped between fingers before flicking it to her—same stupid old gesture. "Next round’ s mine then' She didn’t promise "Take care Rowan." Door groaned shut behind him, leaving the ghosts.