The world was spinning. And it was out of control.
The male looked up at the darkening sky, the stars already present in the dim blue sky and the moon full and as vibrant as if midnight. He inhaled, and hated himself. He exhaled, and loved her more. Inhale, and the self-loathing was unbearable. How stupid, idiotic he had become, and for what? To hurt the one being in the world that had accepted him and hadn’t even seen his face? His breath filtered into the cool air as he exhaled once more. She kept him breathing; he loved her and he hated who he was.
Heath rolled over onto his side, the grass cold beneath him, and a dark hand reached for the bottle. The contents sloshed around in the long glass neck, and he pressed it to his lips and took another swig of the harsh tasting liquid. His lips had grown numb some time ago, and his throat was following suit. But his tongue staying alive, savoring the taste of the Russian vodka. Thoughts lingered on his one love, so long that he was able to just sit and stare into the dark. There was nothing now. Had the sun set? Had he lain there that long? His coyote ears turned as if there was something calling him from the early night’s hollow air. No. No one wanted him.
He swayed, his head so heavy that he wanted sure if it would stay seated on his shoulders. Gold eyes looked half lidded into the nothing. He breathed; he loved her. The inhale was caught in his throat. No, no more. He could hate himself, but he wouldn’t leave her unloved. She could reject him, but she would know that with each breath he loved her. The male stood, and then realized that no, in fact his legs would not work for him at the first command. Using his arms he got to his knees and then finally, and painfully to his feet. The days of drunkenness had taken a toll on the male. He forgot to eat, and remained on the liquid diet for days. But he still breathed; he loved her.
The bottle was attached to his dark hand, while the light guided him from tree to tree for balance. The haze was lifting ever so slightly, the blood pumping through his body and digesting the alcohol as he moved slowly. He could tall her, if he just told her then he would make her happy. It was the truth, he would never lie to her. How foolish he had been! To not just simply tell her how he always felt hen she had confessed it to him. Jac was the cause of all his insecurities, but it didn’t matter. No. Jac would live with him, as Heath would live with him. Could he hear the bells? The male looked upward as if he would see them. Was he close?
Fuck, the world was spinning.
500