Imperfect Beings We Are

The silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Maddox watched the ice melt in Elira's drink, each drop sliding down the glass like tears she refused to shed.

Outside the booth's window, the match continued. Players ran across the green field under bright lights. The crowd's cheers filtered through the thick glass, muffled and distant.

Elira set her glass down with deliberate care. Her fingers drummed against the polished table, a nervous habit that seemed at odds with her usual composed demeanor.

"You know what I think?" she said, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Maddox looked up from his beer. Her blue eyes had that sharp focus again. The kind that made him feel like she could see straight through him.

"I think you're lying to me."

The words hit him like a physical blow. His hand tightened around his glass, foam rising to the surface of his beer.

"Elira—"