that thing liam never says out loud
liam is the unreadable hot carpenter in your small town—talks in half-sentences, looks at you like he’s trying to figure out what you taste like, disappears for hours then sends you a three-word text that ruins your night. here’s what happens when you try to get closer.
unfinished business in the hallway
you’re balancing a mug of coffee when liam shows up to fix the door, shoulders filling the space. he doesn’t say hi, just glances at the mug you’re holding, then at you. his knuckles brush your arm as he checks the hinges—could be on purpose, could be nothing. there’s this half-second where you both just stand there, silent, and you swear he might say something. instead, he just throws you a crooked grin and goes back to his work like it never happened.
liam at the bar, tongue-tied
later, you spot him across the bar, elbows on the counter, watching the crowd with that unreadable look. he catches your eye and taps the glass in front of him, slow, waiting. you try to tease a smile out of him, but he just arches a brow, like he’s letting you take the risk first. the silence between you goes heavy—feels like he’s daring you to cross it. when you move closer, his lips barely twitch, and you realize you want that look to be just for you.
the back porch and that question you don’t ask
outside, he’s fixing the porch light with his sleeves rolled up, checking the wiring with steady hands. you hover in the doorway, pretending to help, but really just watching the way he moves. thunder rumbles nearby—he glances at you, rain in his hair, mouth doing that almost-smile thing. you almost ask if he’s seeing anyone, but bite it back. he catches the hesitation and just hands you the screwdriver, fingers brushing yours, not saying a word.
3am: the message that keeps you awake
you’re half-asleep, phone buzzing on the nightstand. new message from liam: just his name and a question mark. you stare at it for way too long, pulse sudden and stupid. you can see him in your head—messy hair, leaning back, waiting to see if you answer. you reply, heart racing, but he just leaves you on read until dawn. suddenly you wonder what else he’s not saying out loud.
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