This is a short story, I don't really know what the message is but it's over a thousand words and that's possibly the longest part I've ever written on wattpad. Be proud of me.

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I walked towards The Dragon Inn unenthusiastically, shoulders slumped. My appearance was nothing contrary to the times prior to this. I lifted my left hand and placed it on my cheek. My own touch felt unfamiliar, and my face was cold to the touch. The bags under my eyes were boldly apparent, I noticed, as my reflection appeared in the glass window.

It was needless to say it had been a while since I last slept.

I took my usual seat when I entered the pub, ordering two pints and a packet of salted peanuts.

I took a sip out of one of the pints, before splitting open the packet of peanuts and flicking one off of my finger and into the pint. I rested my face on my hand and sighed.

I chugged back half of my other beer, still keeping my eye on the peanut. It sunk to the bottom, like it always does, and stayed there for a good fifteen seconds.

I felt movement next to me and looked to my right. A women in a tight, black dress sat on the bar stool next to me. Her lips were tight and despite the fact her makeup could distract anyone, I didn't fail to notice the exhaustion in her eyes. It mirrored mine.

She glanced at my beer - the one with the peanut in - and her smile. My facial expression masked hers and I looked at my beer again. The peanut had floated back to the top.

I put another peanut in, as the first one fell back down again, repeating the experiment. I then had two peanuts floating up and down in my glass.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the corners of her mouth lifting upwards.
"Putting peanuts in my beer," was my reply. She laughed again, not quite a full laugh, but still a magical one.

The bartender politely asked what she would like to drink, she replied with, "the same as him, please," and a forced smile.

The two pints were placed in front of her and she picked up one, took a gulp and cringed.
"Not like beer, I take it?" She shook her head quickly while I smiled slightly. "You look like you're sucking on a lemon." She rolled her eyes.

We both took out a peanut and dropped it in our beers simultaneously. I watched mine with great concentration and bit my lips while it rose to the top again.

"Why does it do that? Why does it stay down there for so long, and then float again?" She asked, curiosity lacing her tone. Then both of our peanuts sank back down again. "and why does it sink again after? Woah, it rises again?"

"The salt on the peanut acts as nucleation sites for the growth of gas bubbles. The gas bubbles make the peanut float and then they detach from the surface of the peanut and again, the peanut will sink to the bottom, where the process starts again. Depending on how much salt is on the surface, this can go on for minutes, until finally all the salt is washed away and the peanut sinks for the final time."

After I had finished, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It was almost comical.

"What? It's not that impressive, you know," I tell her.
"No... It's not that," she sighs and mutters, "doesn't matter."

My lips twitched as I realised why she was so shellshocked. She was impressed.

"Hey, can I show you something else?" I asked her. She looked like she needed it.

I took her hand in mine gently and led her towards a brown door with a circular window placed in the centre. I pushed open the door and took in a whiff of the scent coming from the kitchen, waving lazily at the chefs before moving past the kitchen and towards what, to first-timers, looked like a dead-end.

"Where are we going?" She asked in an inquisitive, but small, voice. I simply replied with, "you'll see."

As we neared the end of the corridor - which was pretty quick, the corridor was as short as you'd imagine it to be (it was a village pub after all) - I took a sharp left and gripped onto her hand harder. It was then that I realised names had not been exchange.

"You never told me your name, you know," I informed her, the right side of my mouth lifting up a little.
"And you never told me yours." We both smiled at this, before settling into a comfortable silence - well, as comfortable silence between two strangers could be.

We took another sharp corner - this time a right - and headed up a set of loud, metal stairs.

The door at the top was metal too - cold metal. And because of that fact, I made an attempt to open it as quick as I could. I wrapped my fingers around the silver door handle and pushed on the door. It didn't open.

I pushed it again, sighing frustratingly, and it still didn't open. The woman chuckled.

"Here," she said with a mocking laugh, and opened the door. It was a pull door.

After the door had been opened, I lead her out onto the roof of the pub (yes, the pub has a door leading to the roof).

I let out a breath of relief. This had always been my favourite place to come during a rough patch.

I went to the edge of the roof and leaned against the railings, looking over at my village and the city next to it. The pub may not have been far off the ground, however it still gifted us with a beautiful view.

I looked over at the woman - it feels wrong to call her that - and saw her looking out at the view too. The moonlight shone on her face, illuminating her ghost of a smile, and it was in that moment I realised that maybe life wasn't all that bad.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It really is," I replied, my eyes locked on her. "I come out here every time things get tough. It's relaxing, you know? It's my way of coping."

"Coping with what, exactly?" She took steps towards me.

"Life mainly. Bipolar disorder isn't a walk in the park either. It reminds me that not everything in life is ugly, I guess."

"Why were are we out here right now?" Her voice was merely a whisper.

"You looked like you needed it. I can tell you're a closed book, but your eyes give you away." The volume of my voice replicated hers. She took a step towards me.

"And what did my eyes give away?" We were still whispering, and she couldn't take anymore steps towards me.

"You needed someone." Our lips brushed as I spoke, and I felt her hot breathe on my lips.

"Damn right I do."

And then she leant in and kissed me.

It was a fierce kiss - passion, pain, loss, lust, all pouring out of the both of us. It was unfamiliar, but maybe that's exactly what I needed.

We eventually pulled back to breathe, and found ourselves staring into each other's eyes. Our gazes didn't portray love or admiration (we had only just met), but it did show how much our moods had changed drastically throughout the course of the night.

And for the first time in a really, really long time, I smiled. A real, genuine smile.

She pecked my lips lightly, lingering there, before whispering against my lips, "My name is Emily."

And then she was gone.

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GUYS THIS IS 1270 WORDS (not including the a/n) I AM GOING TO SCREAM. I NEVER WRITE THINGS THIS LONG.

These are supposed to be adults, a man and a woman, but interpret it how you want.

I wrote this on impulse, really and I'm not that proud of it but it took a while to write and I think it's okay. Short stories are so hard because I already love the Emily character a lot and that is the last you're going to see of her, she basically created herself.

Also, I'm working on a one shot which is longer than this (it's taking a while to write) so that should be up within a week or two. :)

(I'm not reading over this again so I apologise for any mistakes)