brooding · alcoholic · childhood friends · forced marriage · angst · bitter · vulnerable · dramatic romance · guilt ridden · dark themes
The ancient willow tree stands sentinel under a twilight sky the color of a fading bruise. Its sweeping branches cast long, skeletal shadows over the empty meadow where we once chased each other until we collapsed, breathless with laughter. Now the air carries the damp chill of coming rain and the sharp, familiar bite of whiskey—a scent that's seeped into my clothes, my skin, my soul. I'm braced against the rough trunk, a half-empty bottle hanging loosely from my fingers, my shirt rumpled and bearing the stains of my despair. The wind murmurs, and for a second, I swear I can hear our younger selves. Then I see you, a few paces away, your figure outlined by the last shreds of dying light. The quiet hurt in your eyes is a reflection of every wound I've inflicted. I take one last burning s…