Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRKAE836RQ9ED2D42S6DMJ

The Raven's Nest hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses punctuating the air like a heartbeat. Dim light flickered from the green neon sign outside, casting a soft glow on the faces of patrons scattered across the bar. Silas stood behind the counter, polishing a glass, his hazel eyes scanning the room with a practiced ease. He caught sight of Rory as she slipped through the door, her straight black hair framing her bright blue eyes, a stark contrast to the muted tones of the bar. “Rory!” Silas called, a grin breaking across his face. He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against the bar, his slight limp barely noticeable as he moved toward her. “Si,” she replied, a smile tugging at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped closer, the familiar scent of aged wood and whiskey wrapping around her like a long-lost embrace. “It’s been a while.” “Too long,” he said, his voice low and warm. “You look good. How’s the delivery gig treating you?” “Busy,” she shrugged, glancing around the bar. “But it pays the bills. How’s the Nest?” “Still standing, somehow,” he chuckled, gesturing to the walls adorned with maps and photographs. “You know how it is. A few new faces, a few old stories.” Rory nodded, her gaze drifting to a group of men in the corner, their laughter echoing like ghosts of a past she couldn’t quite shake off. She turned back to Silas, her expression shifting. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” “Neither did I,” he admitted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But I’m glad you did. You’ve been keeping a low profile.” “Just trying to figure things out,” she said, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of something unspoken. “You know how it is.” Silas studied her, the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist catching the light. “You’ve changed, Rory. You’re not the same girl who left Cardiff.” “Neither are you,” she shot back, a hint of challenge in her tone. “You’re not just a bar owner anymore, are you?” He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of regret. “Old habits die hard. But I’m not in the field anymore. Just trying to keep my head above water.” “Is that what you call it?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “You’ve built a whole network here.” “Let’s just say I know a few people,” he replied, his expression shifting to something more serious. “And I keep my ear to the ground. You should be careful, Rory. London can be a dangerous place.” “I can handle myself,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ve had to.” Silas raised an eyebrow, a knowing look passing between them. “And what about Evan? Is he still… around?” Rory’s jaw tightened. “No. I left him behind.” “Good,” he said, his tone softening. “You deserve better than that.” “Do I?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I’ve made my choices, Si. I’m not looking for pity.” “Not pity,” he replied, his gaze steady. “Just concern. You were always the smart one, Rory. But sometimes, even the smartest get lost.” She turned away, her eyes scanning the bar again, avoiding the weight of his words. “I’m not lost. Just… different.” “Different how?” he pressed, leaning closer, his voice low. “You used to be so full of life. Now it feels like you’re just… existing.” Rory clenched her fists, the tension in the air thickening. “Life isn’t always about being full of life, Si. Sometimes it’s about survival.” “Survival?” he echoed, his brow furrowing. “Is that really all you want?” “I want to be free,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Free from the past, free from the mistakes I made.” “Then let’s talk about it,” he urged, his expression earnest. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone.” “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “What’s done is done. I’m here now, and that’s what matters.” Silas sighed, running a hand through his grey-streaked auburn hair. “You can’t just bury it, Rory. It’ll come back to haunt you.” “Maybe I want it to haunt me,” she shot back, her eyes flashing. “Maybe I need that reminder.” “Why?” he asked, his voice steady. “What good does it do you?” “It reminds me of who I was,” she replied, her voice softening. “And who I don’t want to be again.” Silas studied her, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. “You’re stronger than you think. You’ve always been.” “Strength doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m terrified, Si. Every day is a battle.” “Then let me help you fight,” he offered, his eyes earnest. “You don’t have to do this alone.” Rory hesitated, the walls she had built around herself trembling. “I don’t know if I can trust anyone again.” “Trust takes time,” he said gently. “But I’m here. I always have been.” She looked into his hazel eyes, searching for the boy she once knew, the one who had promised to always have her back. “You’ve changed too, you know. You’re not just a friend anymore. You’re… something else.” “Maybe we both are,” he replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way back to each other.” Rory took a deep breath, the air thick with unspoken words. “I don’t know if I want to go back.” “Then let’s move forward,” he suggested, his tone hopeful. “Together.” She looked away, the weight of his gaze pressing against her. “I need time, Si. I’m not ready to open up.” “Take all the time you need,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll be right here.” Rory nodded, the tension between them shifting, but the past still lingered like a shadow. She glanced around the bar, the laughter and chatter fading into the background. “I should get back to work.” “Of course,” he replied, stepping back, giving her space. “But don’t be a stranger, okay?” “I won’t,” she promised, though uncertainty lingered in her voice. She turned to leave, the door swinging shut behind her, leaving Silas standing alone, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air like a ghost.