Teach Her | Cillian Murphy x Reader

23. Lost

October 31

8:43 PM

Cillian held my hand in his own as we walked down the crowded streets, navigating our way through the copious amounts of children trick or treating in groups of what seemed like twenty. For a small town, the amount of kids that were outside was alarming. The town was small and quiet during the daytime, but at night time the streets had flooded with people; either kids with their parents, drunk teenagers partying, or adults weaving in and out of bars on the main strip.

Luckily Cillian had purchased us a motel just near the main strip, allowing us to easily walk where we wanted without taking his car. I made the suggestion to walk, but it was only an excuse, I just wanted to hold his hand again I think. His hands were big, practically engulfing mine when he held it. I noticed it the first we were making out; his hands held onto my waist, holding it in such a way that it made me feel like he was holding onto my whole body in just one grasp. I always missed it, I missed his touch.

Our bodies were close as we walked, our shoulders always brushing against each other as we made our way through the crowds. He occasionally would allow me to walk ahead of him, never letting go of my hand, but always ensuring that our bodies were basically pressed against each other. It was protective and possessive, and I admired it. I also never wanted to be away from him.

Soon enough we made it to where he wanted to take me. Of course, it was a bar. It reminded me of the first time I saw him; the look on his face and the look on mine. I didn't imagine that the next time I went to a bar it would be with him, rather than somehow running into him.

We walked inside and he released the grip on my hand but quickly redirected it to my waist, snaking his hand around my back and holding me close, keeping our bodies glued to one another as we found our way to a spot. We sat at a long table, directly across from the bar tender, sitting on stools beside each other.

I leaned my elbows on the table, tilting my head to the side as I stared at Cillian, taking in his features under the dim lights.

"Do you want anything?" he suddenly asked, resting his arm on the table, looking at me.

I shook my head, glancing at the bartender who walked over to Cillian, quickly taking his order.

"You don't drink?" he asked me, slipping in a quick nod to the bartender after he slid him his drink.

"I've just never been interested in it," I shrugged as I watched him take a sip, carefully placing it back down on the counter. "With strict parents and all, my whole teenage years were monitored constantly. If I came home drunk, I don't know what would've happened to me."

Obviously I didn't want to tell him the part where I grew up with an alcoholic mother who tainted the way I view alcohol, but he didn't have to know that.

"When I was your age I think I was partying every single night," he laughed, turning his body slightly, our knees brushing against each other. "I don't remember a night where I wasn't out somewhere, drinking."

I smiled, leaning forward slightly, shifting further on the stool.

"What were you like in university?" I asked, finding it interesting that he was somehow my age at one point.

He sighed crossing his arms, looking up at the ceiling in a thought for a second before looking back at me.

"I had a girlfriend for majority of my time there," he started nodding slowly, looking around the crowded room before focusing on me. "But she broke up with me. She found it stupid that I was basically twenty and still in a band with friends of mine from high school."