Adonis Ian Black.
We lost her...
Can't bring her back now...
I'm sorry, Adonis.
My body buzzes with intoxication, the thump of alcohol singing in my veins and the aftertaste of it clogs my throat. But can I stop myself from taking another sip? No. The amber liquid shines under the dim lighting of the bar I'm sitting in as I study it at eye level, swishing it left and right inside the delicate crystal.
The liquid glows hazel when the light hits it just right and I'm left comparing it to the beautiful hazels of my wife. How they would shine like two suns when she would be delighted. The gentle flutter of them when she got shy. The glow in them every time she would look my way.
But I've been astray.
I've been a fool, I failed to treasure the sight of them when I was provided. I faile
