𝑫𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝑬𝒄𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ☘︎ Robert Keating

new year's eve 2018

⋆. 𐙚 ̊  december 31st, 2018

The city always felt a little softer on New Year's Eve. Still buzzing, still moving, but in a slower, expectant way. As if everyone, even the streets and the sky and the river, were collectively holding their breath.

June tugged her scarf up over her chin as a breeze slipped past her collar. Her fingers were pink from the cold as she checked the grocery list again, thumb tapping lightly against the cracked screen of her phone. She'd ticked off most of the ingredients last night, but somehow forgot the spring onions. And the rice vinegar. And the soy sauce. Essential things, of course.

The streets around Grafton were awake with quiet purpose. Parents dragging kids in puffed-up jackets, students rushing past with arms full of last-minute party gear, couples carrying bags from off-licenses and artisan cheese shops. The city looked tired and beautiful, a little hungover from the year it had lived through. And yet hopeful, humming beneath the surface with everything it still had to offer.

June's phone buzzed in her pocket.

bobert
do you need help with anything for the food? can pick stuff up if you want or help you make them?

Her thumbs hovered for a second before typing.

august
i'm already at the shops but you can join if you want
and you can come home with me if you want to join us making them

bobert
on my way. where are you?

august
dunnes off south anne. near the mad sweets aisle

bobert
figures

June slipped the phone back in her pocket, a crooked grin tugging at her lips as she headed toward the vinegar shelf. The city felt bright in a quiet way. Something soft humming beneath its surface.

She didn't know what the night would bring, what the year would bring, but right now, she liked the idea of him showing up.

June was holding a bag of frozen peas and squinting at a line of sauces when a voice piped up behind her.

"Didn't peg you for a frozen section girl."

She turned to find Robert standing there, hood up against the rain, cheeks pink from the cold, grinning at her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm versatile," she deadpanned. "Also these are for the dumplings."

He leaned over the trolley and looked in. "Are you making a thousand?"

"I panicked," she muttered. "What if everyone's really hungry?"

Robert laughed, really laughed, the kind that made his eyes crease at the corners. "You're overthinking, McCartney."

She shook her head, trying not to smile too much as she nudged the trolley forward. "Grab soy sauce, smartass."

They walked the aisles together in that easy rhythm they sometimes slipped into, a running commentary of bad brand names, arguments over which chocolate was superior, and Robert adding random things into the trolley "just in case" like a box of Celebrations and a ridiculous amount of fizzy drinks.

At the self-checkout, he scanned half the items before June could even stop him.

"I said I didn't need help."

"You didn't say you didn't want company," he replied, shrugging. "Besides, this way I get extra dumplings."

She rolled her eyes, but there was warmth under it. "Fine. But you're on onion-chopping duty later."