𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

the tour bus was quiet when conor finally re-emerged up the stairs, tossing his cigarette butt onto the concrete outside. the gig had been a success, and the two bands had celebrated accordingly. the guitarist had disappeared for what seemed to be the longest cigarette break ever, before returning when the noise had reduced significantly.

not that he didn’t like a party, of course. but it was loud, and he was so bloody exhausted. so he had snuck out, waiting the light of the moon until the cheering musicians decided to pack it up. although, it was already 2 in the morning when they actually did so.

everyone was in bed now, he noted, except for one from the other band. he spotted you, curled up in the corner, warm cup of coffee in your hands. the steam curled upwards, and the moonlight made your face sparkle.