#g4llaghers

The sun had disappeared by now, the warm glow covered by a dark blanket of clouds in the evening Manchester sky. It wasn't raining yet, but the air stayed heavy, waiting for a hush before the first drop.

Your footsteps were synced, a mix of gravel and damp leaves crunched under your feet. This wasn't the short way home, but neither of you had said anything.

His arm stayed swung around your shoulders, holding you close as your eyes wandered to the emptiness around you.

"You still here with me? Or are you busy in your own world, again, love?" He murmured softly, that usual cigarette sat between his lips.

You bit back a grin, reaching for his hand that rested on your shoulder. "Always. This the long way home?"

He nodded. "I don't fancy saying goodbye just yet."

You ducked your head, hiding the red that threatened your cheeks. He had a way of always knowing what to say, and he understood exactly how it made you feel.

The silence filled itself, almost as if you could read each other's minds. You let the moment settle, his thumb still idly stroking your shoulder.

You wrapped your coat around yourself further, that inevitable Manchester cold creeping in. Eventually, you made it onto a familiar street, that one neighbour that always had something to say, your favourite bookshop that you had been in countless times, even dragging Liam in, after his usual protest about books being "bad for the planet".

You passed the chippy, yours and Liam's favourite. Even Noel's. You felt his arm leave your shoulder, reaching to dig into his pocket, pulling out a few pound coins mixed with scrap paper and chewing gum wrappers.

"You got a 50p? Think we can get chips if we're lucky," He glanced at the timetable displayed. Saturday. 3pm-8pm. He grabbed your wrist, tilting it so he could read the time off your watch.

"8.05," he said, huffing a sigh.

"Reckon if we ask nice enough?" You suggested, tilting your head. "C'mon, she loves us," you pulled softly on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Might as well," He turned towards the half closed shutters. You peered through the window, the shop was mostly dark inside, chairs on top of tables, your gaze falling to that same one you and Liam would sit at every time without fail.

At the back, you spotted the owner: an older woman, glasses perched on her nose, softly sweeping up behind the counter. Her hair sat loosely tied on the top of her head; you were envious of the way she could do it. You asked her to teach you once, a few years ago, whilst you were waiting for Liam to arrive with your notes that you had given him from that lesson he missed the day before.

"But it looks the same every time," You groaned, hands gesturing to her messy updo, "Mine looks like a fucking bird's nest when I try." You rested your elbows on the counter, head leaning on your palm as you admired her hair.

"Language, young lady. How many times do I have to tell you?" She replies, completely avoiding your question. "You're hanging 'round with our Liam too much, he's rubbing off on you," She comments, waving her pen at you.

You almost blush at the mention of his name. 15 year old you had the biggest crush on Liam. But you could never admit that to him. Not unless you wanted to be teased by him and his brother for the rest of your life.

"He's taking the pi-" You stopped yourself before you said anymore, not wanting your chips to be given to you cold if you kept swearing, "-mick, now. He was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago with my stuff," you said, peering down at that same watch.

"Your prince charming is outside, dear," She said, gesturing her pen towards the window, a smile rising on her lips.

You turned around, spotting Liam rushing across the street, fingers fiddling with the backpack strap on his shoulder. He met your gaze through the window, an immediate smirk on his face at the sight of you.

"You lost inside that pretty mind again, love?" A voice pulling you out your trance. He knocked a few times on the door, hard enough so the woman inside could hear but light enough to not startle her.

"Just thinkin'".

"When you not?" he said, throwing his arm around your shoulder, playfully, leaving a small kiss on your head.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Nah," he said, with a small shake of his head. "I like when you do it, you go all dreamy and cute on me. Think you might wander off in that head forever one day."

Before you could reply, the door to the chippy swung open, the woman standing there like she almost wanted to shoo you away, as if you were pesks just messing around.

Her glare landed on you both and immediately softened. "If it isn't my two favourite troublemakers," She leant against the side of the door. "What you need? Lost your house key again Liam?"

Liam ducked his head in embarrassment, you could almost picture the memories flashing in his mind.

He looked back up, huffing a breath before replying, "Just wondering if we could nick some chips?" He said, holding the combination of yours and his loose change in his palm.

She glanced down, before lifting her glasses to the top of her head, "Only for you two," she reached out for the change in Liam's hand. "You better not tell anyone about this, I'll have the whole neighbourhood here after closing if you do."

She closed to door before either of you could say anything, fleeing to the back of the shop. You manoeuvred under Liam's arm towards the window ledge, bringing you both down to sit.

You leaned further into his side, soaking up the heat radiating from his body. Steady. Like home. His arm tightened around you, blocking out the cold breeze that drifted past and through.

You looked around, the houses opposite, light peaking through closed curtains, bare bushes sat swaying in front yards, the street quiet with the sound of sleep. Liam placed another cigarette between his lips, bringing his arm past your face to cup it whilst he flicked his lighter. You giggled into the sleeve of his coat, murmuring a soft "Knock it off," that stayed in his arm.

He placed the cigarette in front of your face, offering you a puff. You obliged, even though smoking wasn't something you liked.

You liked it on him, though.

"What time you wanted back home?" You sighed when he said that, the thought of him dropping you off on your doorstep, him kissing you goodbye, and then watching him until he turned the corner. You dreaded it every time.

Glancing down at your watch, you read 8.12pm. "At 9. Mam wants me home before she can go out," You had to be home for your younger sister, even if she was fast asleep in bed by this time.

Liam nodded, not knowing what to say to that. "Think I could come round for a bit? Wanna listen to them new records you were telling me about," He suggested.

Your face lit up at the thought, your mum rarely let Liam over, saying he was a "bad influence", but you never commented on that. Without a word, you leaned up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, warm lips meeting cold skin.

"Sounds perfect," you smiled, "Have to be quiet though, can't wake me sister up. She'll go mental at me."

"Yes, ma'am."

You heard the sound of the creaky door and soft ring of the bell, before the woman peaked her head round the wall. A small plastic bag rested on her fingers that she leaned over to hand to you. "Threw in an extra portion for your mam in the morning," She smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you, you're a star," Liam said, his arm leaving your shoulder before grabbing the bag from you. He reached both his hands out in front of him as an offer to help you off the ledge.

Your palms met his, pushing off the ledge with a gentle hop before settling beside him, keeping one of his hands in yours, tucking your other in your coat pocket.

"You two still coming on Saturday?" Saturday's and Tuesday's were yours and Liam's normal chippy days, where you and him would meet to do work or escape from everything else.

"Definitely," You spoke through a grin, "Wouldn't miss it." There was always a smile on your face when you were around him, you realised. An effortless, full beam.

The woman smiled gently before closing the door, a silent goodbye passing between you.

You took off walking, the sky now pitch black, thick clouds blanketed any trace of stars, instead a quiet grey sat instead. Streetlights casted a low glow on the path, lighting the walk home that you were positive you could do blindfolded and backwards.

Liam hummed beside you, that cigarette crushed under his foot. The quiet and that usual heat vibrated off him. The silence swallowed you both again, signalling the safeness you both felt together, even walking through the gloomy streets of Manchester.

Every now and then, his fingers would twitch in yours, which did all the talking for him. The plastic bag swung low at his side, the smell of salt and vinegar lingering around you as you walked.

You let your thoughts drift again, to everywhere and nowhere. Something but nothing. You thought about that unfinished homework that sat in your bag at home, the thought of your sister safe in bed, but they always landed back to him.

Before either of you realised, the familiar gate of your front yard came into view, the gate chipped and flaky and the bushes tangled with weeds and memories of you, Liam and Noel spending hours on your front doorstep after your mum had grounded you.

You reached for the rusty gate latch that hadn't actually been properly locked in who-knows how long. It creaked open softly, the only sound that echoed down the street except from distant cars a few roads over.

You half expected to see the front room light on past the curtains, but nothing gave that away. You held the gate open for Liam behind you, still holding onto his hand. "Thought she might have made it look like at least someone was home," you spoke softly.

Liam didn't reply, he never really knew what to say when you spoke about your mum. Everything was always left hanging and vague, neither of you comfortable enough to really talk about it. It had been that way forever.

He shuffled in front of you, leading the way up the path to the creaky front doorstep. It groaned under your combined weight, as if it had memorised you both individually. You reached up to the light that hung beside the door, the same dusty bulb inside that nobody had ever bothered to change, your fingers brushing the key that fell into the same place every time.

Without word, you placed the key in the lock, the door resisting to open at first, swollen with time, but eventually gave in with a reluctant creak. You were met with a cold air, before you shuffled further inside to let Liam in. You'd thought she would've left the heating on at least. You wrestled out of your coat, Liam helping it down your arms before you muttered a soft "ta," and planted a small kiss to his lips.

You stepped in further, walking over to the same spot on the couch that sagged under your weight the same way it did when you were 12. A groan left your mouth, your bones ached and shivered, adjusting from the outside cold. "Take my shoes off, love," you muttered, gently. You heard his soft chuckle, a noise that sounded new and fresh every time.

He set the plastic bag on the arm of the couch, before dropping to his knees in front of you. Bringing his foot into your lap, he slowly began untying your shoelaces, the pair that you had been "eyeing forever", according to Liam, that you eventually bought from that charity shop with last month's allowance.

He finally had both shoes pulled loose off your feet, before he rose back onto his own two. He made his way over to the corner of the room, pulling out a few new records from the case that sat on the floor. He shuffled through them for a few minutes, before he took one from the sleeve and placed on the turntable, settling the needle on top. The room filled with a low hum, "Think you'll like this one," he spoke.

He walked back over and slumped beside you on the couch, before reaching over to grab the plastic bag and a blanket to cover your legs. The bag was still somewhat warm and had that smell that wrapped around you both like an old jacket, comfortingly familiar.

You sat and ate, filling the silence every so often: Liam's talk of how he's going to "take over the world", next week's timetable, what Noel was probably up to right now. It was these moments that you wanted to keep locked in your head and imprint in your mind for good, but more than that, you wanted to stay exactly where you were, forever.

The branches didn't creak anymore when you climbed them. Well, not like they used to. Almost like a quiet acceptance of your usual presence.

Up there, it all felt easier. Somewhat smaller. It was your escape from the chaos of everything.

Perched between two thick branches, the wind brushed through your hair gently, swaying like it was a reminder that time was still moving, even if you weren't.

You heard the crunch of leaves, the huffs of heavy breathing and almost felt the way the world sat on his shoulders.

"What you doing in a tree?"

You huffed a breath. "Why aren't you in a tree?"

"You stuck or somethin'?" You peered past the branch, meeting his gaze. A cigarette sat perched between his plump lips, almost teasingly.

"What, you gonna come up and rescue me?" cocking your head to the side, a playful smirk danced across your lips.

"We done questioning each other?" he said, biting back a grin, and quickly breaking your stare.

You didn't reply. You didn't really know how to.

Your gaze flicked to the sky. Grey and heavy clouds sat low, the sun threatening to slip through as it slowly set, casting a gloomy shadow across the Manchester streets.

"View's better up here," you murmured, eyes still fixated on the lowering sun.

There was a small pause. Then the sound of climbing.

Before you knew it, a body came crashing against yours, your hands reaching for the branch beside you to stable yourself.

"Christ-" he murmured, a hand swiftly landing on your thigh. Almost performative.

"Smooth, Gallagher," you said, a grin spreading across your face.

Instead of replying, his hand left your thigh and he snaked his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, out of habit, settling your head on his shoulder. Natural. Easy.

The cigarette between his lips was long gone, being replaced by a relaxed sigh.

"Could do this forever, you know," he spoke softly, his head turning to place his lips against the top of your head.

You hummed in agreement. You didn’t need to reply, he already knew your answer.

Maybe doing this forever was easier.

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