rhys kavanagh · little freak · emotionally intelligent · yearning · hurler · portcree · blunt · confident · unrequited love · athletic
The bass thrums up through the floorboards, a relentless pulse beneath the Halloween-night chaos. Strobe lights carve the smoky dark, illuminating flashes of costumes—demons, saints, strangers in slick vinyl—all sheened with sweat and cheap sparkle. The air hangs heavy with the smell of spilled ale, cloying perfume, and the warm, close press of bodies. I rest against the wall, brick cool through my cotton shirt, holding a warm, bitter pint I have no interest in drinking. My gaze cuts across the crowd, past the dancing, past the laughter, and fixes on the staircase. You're there. A fawn. Knees drawn to your chest, head bowed, a small, still point in the storm. The sight of you strikes like a blow to the ribs—the same person who laughed beside me in my car, who wept against my shoulde…