T-Minus 14 Pt. 2

The door clicked shut behind you as you stepped inside, the familiar warmth of home settling over your shoulders. The scent of Liam’s cologne still lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the smell of whatever half-eaten snack he’d probably abandoned on the coffee table. Your heels had started to pinch somewhere between the walk back and the elevator ride, and the relief was instant as you kicked them off by the door, flexing your sore toes against the hardwood.

It was late. Not too late, but dark enough that the only light in the apartment came from the soft glow of the television, casting flickering shadows over the couch where Liam was sitting. He wasn’t watching it, though. He just sat there, one arm draped over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the cushion, his expression unreadable.

The moment he glanced up at you, you could tell.

Something was off.

You softened your posture, keeping your voice light as you walked over. "How’d it go?"

Liam exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his curls. "Ehh."

That wasn’t good.

You sank onto the couch beside him, close enough that your thigh brushed his. "‘Ehh’ doesn’t sound like a man who just secured his future."

"Yeah, well, I don’t feel like a man who just secured his future." He let out another breath, tipping his head back against the couch. "I don’t think I failed or anything, but it wasn’t… I dunno. It didn’t give me a lot of confidence."

Your lips pressed together, your fingers already reaching for his. You laced them together, squeezing gently, grounding him. "Liam, you know you’re gonna get something, right? Even if it’s not this one?"

He was quiet for a moment, thumb absently grazing over the back of your hand. "Yeah. I know. Just…" He shrugged, expression tight. "Would’ve been nice. Just to know, y’know? To have that security instead of waiting for whatever comes next."

You reached up with your free hand, brushing a stray curl from his forehead before cupping his cheek. "You’re gonna get something, baby. You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’re too damn good to be passed up. If it’s not this one, it’ll be another. You’ll get your peace of mind, I promise."

He leaned into your palm, just slightly, before shaking his head. "Hope you’re right."

"You know I’m right." You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger. "I’m always right."

That earned you the smallest quirk of his lips—barely there, but enough.

Progress.

For a while, you just sat there, his fingers tangled with yours, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. The weight of the day settled over both of you, quiet and thick, until Liam finally broke the silence.

"So," he murmured, his voice casual. "How about you? How was… Richard?"

Your response was immediate.

"Fine."

Short. Concise. A little too quick.

Liam quirked a brow, but he didn’t press.

You tilted your head, stretching slightly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you switched gears. "You should’ve seen the way this bra made my tits look."

That caught his attention.

His expression flickered, his eyes darting downward as if he could somehow see through your top. "Oh?"

"Mmmhm." You dragged a teasing finger along his chest. "Perky. Bouncy. I was basically a bouncing wet dream tonight."

Liam hummed, his grip tightening around your hand. "See, now I’m mad I didn’t get to see you get dressed."

"Maybe if you’d asked nicely and stuck around."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Oh, now you care about manners?"

You gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse you! I'm a lady, Liam."

Before you could finish, he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, but you didn’t resist, instead letting your arms drape around his shoulders.

"You," you accused, eyes dancing, "are the worst."

Liam’s fingers flexed against your hips. "And yet, you love me."

Your heart stuttered.

Yeah. You did. More than you ever planned to.

You curled your fingers against the back of his neck, dragging him in, lips finding his. The kiss was soft at first, slow, deliberate, before deepening into something more. Something **** and searching, like neither of you wanted to pull away.

Liam sighed into your mouth, his tongue teasing against yours, pulling you closer. You melted into him, heat curling through your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss stretched, time slipping between the cracks, your bodies slotting together in the most natural, inevitable way.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.

Liam stared at you, eyes half-lidded, before he murmured, "Y'know… I could just forget about the interview entirely if we went to bed and fucked instead."

You snorted. "Tempting, but that would just leave you feeling hollow inside."

Liam smirked, tilting his head. "Yeah, well, you’d know. Considering you’re already hollow after Richard."

Your stomach dropped. The words shouldn’t have hit the way they did.

It was just a joke. Just Liam being Liam.

And yet, for a half-second—so quick you weren’t sure if he even caught it—you froze.

Then realization hit him. His face twisted.

"Eugh. Wait. Eugh."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Okay, yeah. Gross."

"Why did you say that?"

"I don’t know, it felt funny in my head!"

You peeked at him between your fingers. "It was kinda funny."

"No. It wasn’t."

You both made exaggerated gagging noises before finally collapsing against each other, laughing.

And just like that, he looked like himself again.

The stress, the disappointment, the weight of the interview—it wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t as heavy anymore. It wasn’t all he was thinking about.

And that was enough.

You exhaled, smoothing a hand through his hair. "C’mon, let’s order food before we spiral into more bad decisions."

Liam raised a brow. "My bad decisions are great."

"Uh-huh. Pick a restaurant, dumbass."

He grinned. "Pizza?"

You sighed, already grabbing your phone. "Fine. But you’re paying."

Liam pulled you closer, lips brushing against your temple. "We’ll see about that, princess."

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach fluttered.

And just like that, the weight of the day melted away.

You stretched out on the couch, sinking into the cushions with a satisfied sigh as your fingers lazily toyed with Liam’s. He was slouched beside you, one arm draped over the backrest, the other hand lightly tangled with yours in a way that felt more like an afterthought than a deliberate action—like touching you was just second nature now. The TV hummed in the background, some random sitcom neither of you were really watching, the soft glow of the screen casting flickering light across the dimly lit apartment.

It was warm. It was cozy. The kind of effortless, unspoken comfort that made you forget time was even moving.

And yet—Your stomach rumbled.

Liam turned his head, eyebrows raised. "Was that you?"

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. "No. It was the couch. The couch is starving."

Liam snorted, squeezing your hand. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, what are we eating?"

You peeked up at him, lips quirking. "I believe the term is what are you buying for me?"

He huffed, pretending to think. "Oh. Right. In that case, I’ll just get whatever I want."

Your eyes narrowed. "I swear to God, Liam, if you say something stupid—"

"—Pineapple pizza."

Your entire body stiffened.

"Liam."

"Mmm?"

"You would not."

He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a slow, lazy smirk. "Oh, but I would."

Your mouth fell open. "You don’t even like pineapple on pizza!"

"Yeah, but watching you suffer? Priceless."

You smacked his chest, and he laughed, catching your wrist with his free hand before pulling you fully into his lap. You went without protest, settling against him with an exaggerated sigh, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

"You’re evil," you muttered.

"That’s what you get for making me think about your hollow post-Richard state," he shot back.

You groaned, hiding your face in his neck. "We agreed not to talk about that!"

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Nah, you decided that. I reserve the right to bring it up as I please."

"You’re lucky you’re cute," you grumbled.

"And you’re lucky I’m hungry enough to let you pick something else."

You perked up immediately. "Ooh, okay—hear me out—what about—"

"Not the fancy overpriced place you always pick," he cut in.

Your lips pressed into a pout. "But it’s so good!"

"It’s a scam."

"It’s art."

Liam made a show of rolling his eyes. "I am not paying thirty bucks for a pizza that comes with ‘locally sourced fig jam’ and ‘handcrafted artisan goat cheese’ or whatever pretentious bullshit they put on it."

You made a dramatic show of sighing. "Fine. What about the place on Yonge?"

He looked unimpressed. "The one that takes an hour to deliver?"

"Okay, first of all, it takes forty minutes—"

"—Lies—"

"—and second of all, it’s worth the wait!"

Liam gave you a flat look. "Their crust is ass."

You gasped. "Excuse me?!"

"It’s floppy," he stated. "It’s soggy. It’s a disgrace to pizza."

"It is not soggy!"

He arched a brow. "Oh yeah? Pick up a slice and tell me it doesn’t turn into a sad little U-shape."

You scowled. "You just hate things that aren’t aggressively crispy."

"Because crispy is superior."

You huffed, shifting in his lap, arms crossed. "Okay, fine, Mister Pizza Critic, what’s your suggestion?"

Liam smirked. "The spot near campus."

You groaned. "Babe. Their sauce tastes like straight-up tomato paste."

"That’s called flavor."

"That’s called cheap ingredients."

"It’s ten dollars for a large pizza."

"Exactly!"

Liam grinned, shrugging. "Sounds like a steal to me."

You threw your head back, groaning. "God. This is literally the hardest part of our relationship."

He snickered. "Not the whole ‘cursed into being a girl’ thing?"

You waved a hand. "That’s great. This? This is impossible."

Liam chuckled, tugging you closer. His arms wrapped around your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to your bare skin. The heat of it sent a little shiver down your spine, and your irritation melted, your body unconsciously relaxing against him.

"I love you," he murmured against your skin.

You sighed, the tension leaving your shoulders. "You’re lucky I love you too."

"Damn right," he teased, pulling back just enough to nuzzle his nose against yours.

You smiled, tilting your head just slightly, lips brushing together in the softest hint of a kiss. The moment lingered, warm and quiet, before you finally exhaled and gave his shirt a light tug.

"Fine," you relented. "We can order from that place near campus."

Liam gasped dramatically. "For real?"

"Yes."

He cupped your face, grinning. "God, I love you_ so much _right now."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You better appreciate this, because next time? We’re getting fancy fig jam pizza."

Liam groaned. "Okay, let’s not get crazy—"

You flicked his forehead. "Shut up and order, dumbass."

He laughed, reaching for his phone.

And just like that, the hardest decision of the night was made.