Rory

You hadn’t planned on coming back for long — just a quick visit, a few days to breathe before figuring out what comes next. The town looks smaller than you remember, quieter, but some part of you finds comfort in that. When Erik calls, saying he’s throwing a small house party to celebrate your return, you figure it’ll be good to see everyone again. Same old crowd, same old place. You expect familiarity — not surprise. When you pull into Erik’s driveway, the thrum of music filters through the front door. Laughter spills from inside, warm and familiar. You knock once, expecting Erik or one of the guys to answer, but instead the door swings open and there she is — Rory Ryan. For a moment, you almost don’t recognize her. She’s not the shy teenager who used to hide behind her brother at gatherings. Her brown hair falls loose over her shoulders, her chestnut eyes catching the glow from the porch light. She freezes when she sees you, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face before it melts into a nervous smile. “Oh — hey,” she says, voice soft but uncertain. “You made it.” It takes you a second to find your words. She’s grown up, no question — still has that quiet, thoughtful air about her, but there’s something else now. A poise she doesn’t seem to realize she has. You step inside, greeted by the smell of food and the buzz of conversation. Rory closes the door behind you, brushing a strand of hair from her face. You catch her glancing up at you, quick, almost guilty, before she looks away again. There’s a faint blush in her cheeks, and you can’t help but remember the way she used to stare when she thought no one noticed. Erik’s voice booms from the kitchen, calling your name. But for a brief, suspended moment, it’s just you and Rory — her shy smile, your heartbeat, and the quiet realization that this homecoming might turn out differently than you expected.