Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQQSNZEZGNZ1B16PE3X4FV

The Raven's Nest hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. The green neon sign outside cast a soft glow through the windows, painting the patrons in shades of emerald. Aurora Carter, known to most as Rory, slipped through the door, her eyes scanning the room with a practiced ease. She wore a leather jacket over her delivery uniform, the logo of Golden Empress peeking out from beneath. Her bright blue eyes, sharp and observant, took in the familiar surroundings. She moved towards the bar, her steps confident, yet there was a subtle tension in her shoulders. The weight of the day clung to her like a second skin. Silas Blackwood, the bar's owner, stood behind the counter, his hazel eyes meeting hers with a knowing glint. He nodded, acknowledging her presence without words, as he polished a glass with a white cloth. "Evening, Rory," he greeted, his voice a low rumble that matched the bar's ambiance. "Evening, Silas," she replied, sliding onto a stool. "Busy night?" "Steady enough," he said, setting the glass down. "The usual?" She nodded, and he poured her a drink, the liquid catching the light as it filled the glass. Rory took a sip, savoring the warmth that spread through her chest. She glanced around, her gaze lingering on the old maps and photographs that adorned the walls. Each one told a story, much like the patrons who frequented the bar. As she turned back to the bar, a figure caught her eye. A man, seated at the far end, his back to her. Something about the way he held himself, the set of his shoulders, tugged at her memory. She frowned, trying to place him, when he turned slightly, revealing a profile she hadn't seen in years. Her breath caught. It was Evan. He looked different, older, the lines of his face more pronounced. His hair, once a deep chestnut, was now streaked with grey. He wore a tailored suit, the fabric expensive and well-fitted, a stark contrast to the casual attire she remembered. He seemed absorbed in thought, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. Rory hesitated, the past rushing back with a force that left her momentarily breathless. Memories of laughter, of whispered promises, and the darker times that followed. She had left that life behind, or so she thought. Yet here he was, a ghost from her past, sitting in the same bar she frequented. Silas, ever perceptive, followed her gaze. "Old friend?" he asked, his tone neutral. "Something like that," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. Silas nodded, understanding without needing further explanation. He moved away, giving her space to decide her next move. Rory took a deep breath, steeling herself. She slid off the stool, her footsteps quiet on the wooden floor as she approached Evan. He didn't notice her at first, his attention elsewhere. She stopped a few feet away, her presence finally drawing his gaze. "Evan," she said, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and something else—something unresolved. He looked up, his eyes widening in recognition. "Rory," he breathed, the name a whisper on his lips. "It's been a long time." "Years," she agreed, crossing her arms. "I didn't expect to see you here." "Nor I you," he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Life's full of surprises, isn't it?" She nodded, unsure of what to say next. The silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. "Can I buy you a drink?" he offered, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. She hesitated, then nodded, taking the seat. "Why not?" He signaled to the bartender, ordering another round. As they waited, Rory studied him, noting the changes time had wrought. He seemed more composed, the restless energy she remembered now tempered by experience. "So," he began, breaking the silence, "what brings you to London?" "Work," she replied, keeping her answer vague. "And you?" "Business," he said, his tone equally noncommittal. "I travel a lot these days." The drinks arrived, and they each took a sip, the alcohol a welcome distraction from the tension between them. "You look well," he remarked, his gaze lingering on her face. "Thanks," she said, her voice guarded. "You too." He chuckled, a sound that held a hint of self-deprecation. "Time hasn't been entirely kind, but I manage." She nodded, unsure of how to respond. The years apart had created a chasm between them, one that couldn't be bridged with small talk. "Do you ever think about Cardiff?" he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers. "Sometimes," she admitted, the memories bittersweet. "It feels like a lifetime ago." "It does," he agreed, his expression thoughtful. "We were different people back then." "Weren't we all?" she replied, a hint of irony in her voice. He smiled, a genuine one this time, and for a moment, she glimpsed the man she once knew. "I suppose we were." They fell silent again, the noise of the bar a backdrop to their thoughts. Rory traced the rim of her glass, her mind a whirl of emotions. She had moved on, built a new life, yet the past lingered, a shadow that refused to fade. "Rory," Evan said, his voice softer now, "I'm sorry." The words hung in the air, unexpected and raw. She met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "For everything," he continued, his expression earnest. "I was young and foolish, and I hurt you. I regret that." She took a deep breath, the apology stirring something within her. "I appreciate that," she said, her voice steady. "But we can't change the past." "No, we can't," he agreed, a hint of sadness in his voice. "But maybe we can learn from it." "Maybe," she allowed, the tension between them easing slightly. They talked then, the conversation flowing more easily. They spoke of old friends, of places they had visited, of the paths their lives had taken. The years apart had changed them both, yet there was a comfort in the familiarity, in the shared history that bound them. As the night wore on, the bar began to empty, the patrons drifting out into the cool London air. Rory glanced at the clock, surprised at how quickly time had passed. "I should go," she said, rising from her seat. Evan stood as well, a hint of reluctance in his movements. "It was good to see you, Rory." "You too," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. They walked to the door together, the night air crisp and refreshing. She paused, turning to face him. "Take care, Evan," she said, her voice sincere. "You too," he replied, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer. With a final nod, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The past was a part of her, but it no longer defined her. She had her own path to follow, and she intended to do just that. As she disappeared into the night, Evan watched her go, a sense of closure settling over him. The years had changed them both, but in that moment, he felt a sense of peace. The past was behind them, and the future lay ahead, full of possibilities.