‎૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮ ‎ ‎1986

The night isn't like the others. There's something different in the air, a tense calm that you feel more in your chest than on your skin. You walk down the empty street with your heart in knots and the sky watching you like it knows you're about to disappear.

Liam is waiting for you at the old park, the one where you used to kick stones and smoke cigarettes while talking about music and how much you hated the world. He's sitting on the bench, hood up and hands in his pockets. He sees you coming and doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look away either.

His voice sounds sadder than usual, like he's also saying goodbye to something he doesn’t want to let go of. You don’t say anything at first. You just sit next to him, not touching, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

He nods slowly. Looks straight ahead like everything he can’t say is hidden there. Then he turns his head slightly and looks at you, with those eyes that always held more rage than sadness, but now... they burn.

“Your mum never liked us,” he mutters with a dry half-laugh. “Like we were some kind of plague.”

You know your family never forgave the Gallaghers for things that weren’t even Liam’s fault. Old stuff, inherited grudges. Like loving him was a sin.

“Are you gonna forget about me? Like everyone else, right?” he asks suddenly, with a broken voice you didn’t expect. ‎ ‎╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯