Liam almost felt sick to stay stuck in this place. He hated the beach that was always rainy and got his hair wet, he hated how stubborn his father was for not leaving all that behind and he hated himself for not leaving when he had the chance, for being stuck in time.

He threw two small stones at the glass of your window, the already familiar signal that asked you to open the window for him. Liam smiles a little when he sees you approach the glass and open the window for him, giving him space to enter your room. The smell of his cigarette impregnates the walls of the room and his behavior is more agitated than usual. He runs his hands through his messy hair and sighs, as if he was in agony, and then Liam speaks.

"Come with me," his eyes and tone of voice are pleading. "Let's go to another city, away from this."