Pep Talk Pt. 2

The door clicked shut behind you.

Silence.

The kind that felt like a weight, pressing down on your chest, thick and suffocating.

Your heels clicked against the floor as you stepped inside, but you barely heard them. Your dress clung to you in places, damp with sweat. Your skin felt cold, your stomach hollow.

Liam was still awake. You hadn’t expected that.

It was so late—well past 2 AM—but there he was, sitting on the couch, his phone in his hands. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across his face, highlighting the subtle crease between his brows.

He looked up the second you walked in.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting his phone aside. “How’d it go?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

And then—

The sob broke free before you could stop it.

Your body betrayed you, shaking, shuddering, as the tears spilled over your cheeks. You sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, trying to swallow it back, but it was useless. The walls you had thrown up—the walls you had needed to keep up—crumbled.

Liam was up in an instant.

“Whoa—hey, hey, come here.” His voice was gentle but firm, already moving to pull you down onto the couch beside him. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t press—just opened his arms the second you collapsed into him.

And god, you collapsed.

You curled into him, your body trembling as the sobs wracked through you. His hoodie smelled comforting, warm and familiar, and his arms around you were solid, grounding.

“What happened?” Liam murmured, hand rubbing slow circles against your back.

You tried to speak. You really did. But your breath hitched, your chest hurt, and it was a long moment before you could finally **** out, “I— I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Liam didn’t say anything. He just held you, letting you take your time.

You squeezed your eyes shut, fresh tears slipping free. “I thought— I thought this was it, y’know? I thought… this was what you meant. When you said I should— should just let myself be happy.”

You felt him tense slightly at that, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought I was doing it right,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I thought— I thought being with Damian was— was proof that I was just going with it. That I was embracing this— this trial, this stupid curse. I wanted to be the kind of person who could just… just enjoy it.”

Liam’s hand stilled on your back. “…But?”

You sucked in a sharp, shaking breath.

“But it wasn’t real.”

The words ripped out of you, raw and aching.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, your tear-streaked face crumpling. “It was just sex, Liam. Just… empty. And I—” Your voice wavered. “And I saw myself.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You swiped at your wet cheeks, but it was pointless. The tears wouldn’t stop. “The mirror. In the hotel. I— I saw myself.” A hollow laugh broke from you. “I saw this—this girl. Bent over, lace falling off, him behind me. And I just—” You shook your head, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t recognize myself.”

Liam’s expression darkened.

“I remembered,” you went on, voice shaking. “I remembered that I’m not her. I’m not Luna. I’m me. And— and I let him— I let him just—” You broke off, another sob threatening to spill over. “I don’t even know why I wanted this. I don’t know why I wanted to see him again. I just—” You clenched your hands into the fabric of Liam’s hoodie, shaking. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Liam exhaled, long and slow, and then, he did something you didn’t expect. He reached out. Not hesitantly. Not awkwardly. Just… certainly.

And he cupped your cheek. It was soft. Gentle. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your skin, his touch warm and steady.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing in a way that made your chest ache. “You’re you. No matter what.”

Your breath hitched. “But I don’t feel like me.”

Liam’s gaze searched yours, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a quiet sigh, and before you could react, he pulled you back into him—his arms firm, his chin resting atop your head.

You sank into it. Into him. And god, it was so easy to just stay there.

“I got you,” he murmured, voice low and steady against your hair. “You’re not lost. I promise.”

You clenched your eyes shut, throat tight. You wanted to believe him.

But right now? Right now, you weren’t sure you even believed yourself.

Liam’s arms around you were solid, grounding, real. You hadn’t realized how much you were shaking until you felt the steady rhythm of his breath against you, slow and even, like an anchor in the middle of the storm raging in your chest.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just held you.

And then—

“I need you to explain this to me,” he murmured, his voice low, careful. “I mean everything, okay? Because I’m not gonna lie, I’m trying to follow, but…” He exhaled, his thumb brushing absentminded circles against your shoulder. “You’re really all over the place right now.”

You let out a watery, broken laugh—because _of course _he would say it like that.

Liam pulled back just enough to look at you. His expression was gentle, but his gaze was sharp, searching. Waiting.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to breathe. And then—through sobs, through shaky breaths, through the ache in your chest—you told him everything.

Everything.

The lie. The fact that you had slept with Damian before, despite what you told him. That part of you had been attracted to him—not just physically, but to the idea of being his girl. That despite knowing this body was temporary, there was a part of you that wanted to slip into that role while it lasted.

You wanted him to want you. You wanted to be desired.

But tonight?

Tonight had ripped that illusion apart.

You told Liam about the mirror. About how you had seen yourself and realized, in the middle of being used, that this wasn’t real. That you weren’t Damian’s girl. That you weren’t anyone’s girl. That the moment he finished—the moment the last shred of intimacy was gone—you were left with nothing.

Because that’s all it was. Just sex.

You choked on the words, your breath ragged.

“I just—” you gasped. “I thought this was me embracing it. I thought I was finally just… just going along with it. But Liam, it was empty.” Your voice cracked. “I felt empty.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your whole body curling inward, shoulders trembling. Liam’s hand found yours. Not gripping. Not demanding. Just… there. Warm.

“Shit,” he murmured, voice tight. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s— It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I hate that you feel this way.”

Something in your chest tightened.

You sniffled, rubbing at your face uselessly, still unable to calm down. “And I liked it,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Even tonight, I liked it. And I— I don’t even know what that means.”

Liam exhaled, long and slow. “I think it means you were trying to be okay with all of this,” he said. “You were trying to make it mean something. Even if it didn’t.”

Your throat constricted.

Yeah. Yeah, that sounded right. And god, it hurt.

Liam squeezed your hand. “You’re not crazy for wanting to be wanted, you know.”

You blinked up at him, eyes still glassy, heart hammering.

“I—” You swallowed hard. “I know. I just— I just thought this would make me feel more like myself, not less.”

Liam’s expression softened in a way that made your breath hitch. “You are yourself,” he murmured. “Even if you don’t feel like it right now.”

Your lips parted slightly, chest tight. You didn’t know why his words hit so deeply, but they did.

Liam’s hand moved—hesitant, almost shy—and then he brushed a tear-stained strand of hair behind your ear. And just like that, the warmth in your chest spread everywhere.

It wasn’t like being with Damian. Not at all.

With Damian, it had been a rush. A high. A desire to be wanted. To fit into the space he carved out for you, to be his, even if only for a little while.

But with Liam? This was different. This wasn’t about being wanted. This wasn’t about playing a role.

This was being seen. For who you are.

And godd, it made you feel—

…You didn’t even know what it made you feel.

Liam’s lips quirked into a small, lopsided smile. “I’m still not totally following how you managed to rope Damian into a second date, by the way.”

The laugh that broke from you was genuine this time, shaking your head. “I don’t even know,” you admitted, sniffling.

Liam grinned. “What, you just gave him the eyes?”

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, but then his expression softened again, his hand still lightly holding yours. His thumb brushed against your knuckles absentmindedly.

And suddenly, you were hyperaware of how close you were to him. The way he was looking at you—warm, steady, safe—it was so different from how Damian had looked at you.

With Damian, it had been possession.

With Liam, it felt like something else entirely.

Homely? Warm? Comfortable?

Something you weren’t sure you could name. The thought sent a strange, quiet shiver down your spine.

Liam let out a breath, shaking his head fondly. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said, like it was an undeniable truth.

You weren’t sure if you believed that. But the way he said it? You wanted to.