Rabbit
1137 Words
Reig
By the time I reached the rooftop bar, the reunion was already loud enough to hear from outside.
Music. Laughter. Drunk conversations.
The moment I stepped inside, chaos greeted me immediately.
“REIG!”
Someone nearly tackled me.
I laughed as Marco grabbed my shoulders dramatically. “You still look annoyingly expensive.”
“You look unemployed,” I answered.
The table exploded with laughter.
A few greetings followed. Questions about New York. Questions about flying. Questions about Columbia.
I answered politely, but my attention kept drifting around the rooftop.
Searching.
And then I saw her.
Near the edge of the long table.
Quiet.
My chest tightened instantly.
Clara.
For a second, the noise around me disappeared completely.
Because there she was.
Older now. Beautiful enough to make breathing difficult.
Her brown hair fell softly around her shoulders while the red satin dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly.
Elegant. Soft. Dangerous to my self-control.
But something felt wrong immediately.
Too quiet. Too withdrawn.
The Clara I remembered used to glow around people.
This Clara looked exhausted.
She laughed when someone spoke to her, but it sounded forced somehow.
And the glass in her hand.
Too much alcohol.
Rabbit. What happened to you?
“Bro,” Marco said beside me. “You even listening?”
“No.”
His eyes followed my stare toward Clara before a grin slowly spread across his face.
“Oh.”
I ignored him.
Unfortunately, Marco had never been the type to let things go.
“You still like her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You literally look heartbroken staring at her.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“That’s accurate.”
I grabbed the beer someone handed me and took a slow sip without looking away from Clara.
She was rubbing her thumb against the side of her glass.
A habit.
She used to do that whenever she felt nervous.
“Damn,” Marco muttered. “You’re gone gone.”
“Relax.”
“You came back for her, didn’t you?”
That made me pause for half a second.
Long enough.
Marco stared at me in disbelief. “Oh my God.”
I sighed because denying it suddenly felt pointless.
Maybe I didn’t return only because of Clara.
But she was definitely part of the reason.
Then suddenly, she reached for her drink again.
Too fast.
Too empty.
I frowned. “She drinks now?”
“Not really,” Marco answered.
Interesting.
Before I could ask further, Clara stood from her seat carefully.
Definitely drunk.
“Bathroom,” she mumbled before walking away.
I watched her disappear into the crowd before casually taking her seat.
Marco looked horrified.
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
“You’re smiling to yourself again.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. It’s disturbing.”
A few moments later, Clara returned.
She slowed after noticing me sitting in her chair.
Confusion crossed her face first.
Then recognition.
“…Reig?”
God.
That voice.
“You’re back?” she asked softly.
“Just this month.”
She nodded slowly, still staring at me like she couldn’t believe I was real.
“Is this your chair?” I asked.
“…Yes.”
“Hm.” I smiled slightly. “Guess you’ll have to sit beside me then.”
The table exploded immediately.
Clara looked moments away from evaporating.
Cute.
Very cute.
She sat beside me carefully, avoiding eye contact.
That bothered me more than it should.
Because the Clara I remembered would’ve already started arguing with me.
“How much did you drink?” I asked quietly.
“Enough.”
“You don’t drink.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You remember that?”
I almost said: I remember everything about you.
Instead, I shrugged lightly.
“You used to cry after one sip of beer.”
“That happened once.”
“You cried because it was bitter.”
“It was bitter.”
I laughed quietly.
And there she was.
Just for a second.
My rabbit.
The rest of the night blurred into conversations and noise, but my attention stayed fixed on Clara almost constantly.
Every time people talked about careers or achievements, she withdrew further into herself.
I noticed.
Of course, I noticed.
Later, someone suddenly slammed a bottle onto the table.
“TRUTH OR DARE!”
Everyone immediately started yelling.
Clara physically looked like she wanted to die.
I smiled slightly.
Still hates games.
The bottle spun until it landed on me.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“BORING!”
One of the girls leaned forward immediately. “Do you have someone special?”
The table screamed.
I could’ve avoided the question easily.
But instead my eyes moved automatically toward Clara.
Tipsy. Quiet. Beautiful.
“Yeah,” I answered simply.
Silence.
Then chaos.
“WHO?”
Across from me, Clara froze before forcing out a small smile.
Interesting.
“She’s private,” I said simply.
The teasing only got louder.
Several rounds later, the bottle landed on Clara.
“Truth or dare?”
She blinked slowly before mumbling
“Dare.”
The entire table screamed.
Mika grinned wickedly. “Sing a song for the one who first stole your heart.”
Dead silence.
Then Clara choked on absolutely nothing.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.
Because judging from the panic on her face
She remembered.
“Pass,” she muttered before dropping her forehead dramatically onto the table.
Everyone screamed louder.
“I’m dying,” Clara mumbled.
I laughed quietly beside her.
And for the first time that night, she looked up at me directly.
Cheeks flushed from alcohol. Eyes sleepy. Pouty mouth irritated.
Beautiful.
“Why are you laughing?” she accused softly.
“You’re cute.”
The words slipped out naturally.
Clara stared at me before immediately looking away.
Yeah.
Definitely not ready yet.
By the time the reunion started ending, Clara looked seconds away from falling asleep sitting upright.
People slowly gathered their things while saying goodbye.
I watched Clara stand unsteadily from her chair.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
“I’ll drive you home,” I said immediately.
Her head snapped toward me. “No.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m functional.”
“You almost fell onto the table five minutes ago.”
“That was the floor’s fault.”
I smiled despite myself.
Still stubborn.
Then she lost balance slightly.
I grabbed her elbow automatically.
Warm skin.
Soft.
Clara froze.
So did I.
Her eyes lifted toward mine slowly.
Too close.
Way too dangerous.
“Rabbit,” I said quietly, “you can barely stand.”
She blinked at the nickname.
“…You still call me that?”
Always.
But I only smiled slightly instead.
“Come on.”
This time, she didn’t argue anymore.
- Writer
