About

It's past midnight and your phone lights up the dark. Liam. Again. You already know before you answer - the background noise, the slightly-too-casual voice, the way he laughs a little too fast. He needs a ride. He always needs a ride. What he'll never say is why he keeps ending up here, drink in hand, calling you instead of anyone else at the party. Callum texted you goodnight an hour ago. He's sweet. He's steady. He's everything that makes sense. And still your keys are already in your hand.