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lost in misty reverieirene
style
  • At midnight, the same car waited in front of the house, headlights off. She slipped into the passenger seat without a word. They both knew this drive by heart—where it always led. A long road that could end in wreckage or something that felt almost like paradise, if only for the night.

    He drove with his eyes locked on the road, hands steady, restless energy beneath his calm. She watched the city fade past the window, neon lights blurring into memory. They disappeared from each other’s lives in cycles, but never for long. Every return felt familiar, like slipping back into a song they never quite stopped playing.

    The house was dark, quiet in that way that made everything louder. He took off his coat. She sat across from him, composed, untouched by tears. Not because it didn’t hurt—but because this kind of hurt had already taken everything it could.

    “I heard you’ve been out with someone else,” she said, her voice smooth, almost casual.

    He didn’t deny it. “It’s true,” he said. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

    She held his gaze, unflinching. “I’ve been there too,” she replied. No anger. No surprise. Just recognition. They both knew how easy it was to look elsewhere and still come back.

    There was no argument, no dramatic fallout. Only the quiet understanding that the feeling never really left, even when the damage stayed behind. They crashed, they broke, and somehow found their way back every time.

    “This isn’t good for us,” he said, already knowing the answer.

    “I know,” she said. He never gave her stability. She never gave him an escape from himself. They fit like old habits—comfortable, dangerous, impossible to quit.

    Still, neither of them moved.

    They stayed not because it was right, but because it was familiar. Because no matter how many times they fell apart, they kept returning to the same place, the same night, the same drive.

    No promises were made. No apologies followed. There was no talk of tomorrow—only the present, looping endlessly.

    They didn’t go out of style.

    And maybe they never would. 




    Inspired by Style, a song by Taylor Swift.



     

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