Page 4 of Ghost Of You

But soon, his attention drifts back to the waitress, who’s engaged with a group of young men barely old enough to be out. I let him indulge in his distractions and turn my focus back to Laelia.

As I watch her laughter ripple through the crowd, her joy is palpable, and it’s as if time has reversed itself. I’ve known Laelia since we were children, and as we navigated high schooltogether, our bond deepened in ways I never anticipated. I fell for her with a ferocity that felt like destiny, and we became inseparable. Yet, like many high school romances, ours was a fleeting love that eventually parted ways. Six years have passed since she moved to London with her mother, and now seeing her again brings a flood of memories of what once was—memories of the girl I’ve compared every woman to since she slipped through my fingers.

As the world continues to whirl around us, I find myself inching closer to her, making my way through the throng of people. She’s lost in the music, her arms raised, spinning with an effortless grace. Then, mid-turn, her eyes lock with mine. Her arms fall to her sides, her mouth slightly agape as recognition dawns on her face.

“Killian!” she exclaims, her voice filled with disbelief and delight as she rushes towards me, leaping into my arms.

I catch her effortlessly, her embrace enveloping me in a warmth that contrasts with the chilly nightclub air. Amidst the cloying perfume and cologne mingling around us, her scent is a perfect blend of iris and patchouli with a hint of vanilla—a dream I didn’t realise I’d been longing for.

As she gently places her feet back on the ground, the space between us is reduced to mere inches. I gaze down at her, taking in her enchanting nature-coloured eyes that have always held me captive. “Killian Tate,” she says, her smile radiating a brilliance that makes my heart ache.

“Laelia Jayne Marie Thorn,” I reply, a smile tugging at my lips.

She scrunches her nose playfully. “Oh god. Nobody’s said my full name in forever.”

I laugh softly. “Still as beautiful as ever.”

A rosy flush spreads across her cheeks as she bites her lip, attempting to hide her smile. She playfully taps my arm. “And still as handsome as ever. And I see you’ve kept your long hair.”

“Always! Though I do tie it up in a bun from time to time,” I respond, enjoying the way she giggles.

“How about we grab a drink and head to the smoking shelter?” she suggests, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I extend my arm towards her, and she takes it, letting me guide her through the crowd. As we approach the bar, Ethan, ever the mischief-maker, rushes up behind Laelia and twirls her around. Her laughter rings out, a melody that makes me smile.

“Is that Ethan Peterson I see?” she asks rhetorically, her surprise evident.

Ethan grins. “Laelia Thorn! I never thought I’d see you again! Last I heard, you were in London,” he shouts over the pounding music.

Her smile falters slightly at the mention of London. She looks at me, then back at Ethan. “I went down there with my mum, but sadly, she passed away about two years ago,” she says, her voice wavering with the weight of her loss. My heart aches for her, feeling the depth of her sorrow. She blinks rapidly, forcing a smile. “But enough about that. How about that drink?”

Turning to the bartender, I call out, “A beer and a double pink gin and lemonade, please.” He nods and quickly prepares our drinks. Moments later, he returns, announcing, “Eleven!” causing Ethan to cough behind me.

I roll my eyes and add, “Another beer, please.” The bartender nods and scurries off, returning with an extra beer. “Fifteen!” he calls out as I hand him a twenty, receiving my change in return.

Handing Ethan his beer with a chuckle, I say, “Your beer.”

“Aww, thanks. You shouldn’t have,” he smirks.

I flip him off playfully. “Bastard.”

“I heard that,” he calls after me.

“You were meant to.”

Turning back to Laelia, I pick up her drink, complete with a pink plastic straw. When I face her, her radiant smile is abeacon, a sight I could lose myself in forever. She takes the drink from my hand, stands on her tiptoes, and plants a tender kiss on my left cheek. As she pulls away, her eyes meet mine, and I can see the blush on her cheeks deepening.

She reaches out her hand, and I take it, letting her guide me to the smoking shelter. We navigate through the crowded nightclub, stepping out into the chilly night air. The smoking area is filled with a haze of smoke, but Laelia holds my hand firmly, guiding me through the crowd to a bench at the back that’s mercifully empty.

She sits down, placing her drink beside her, and pulls out two cigarettes from her pocket, offering one to me. As she retrieves her lighter, I pre-emptively produce mine, holding it out to her. With a smile, she places the cigarette between her lips, shielding the tip while I light it. As the cigarette's end glows, her smile widens, the smoke curling between us.

I quickly light my cigarette, watching her as I do. “What is it?” I ask, sensing something on her mind.

She glances at my cheek, then back at me. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Like what?” I ask, a smile tugging at my lips.

“My lipstick,” she giggles, her laughter like a melody.

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