Evelyn was an amusing girl, hanging out with friends and living her best life with the man she deeply loved. But suddenly found herself in a hospital room, realizing she's been in an induced coma for her past six months.
Her sense of disability lea...
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Sitting on the couch, pretending to watch tv, I digged the tequila bottle into my mouth, sipping on it as hard as I could while my head became dizzier and my vision blurred out.
I was too drunk that night, unaware of anything related to existence, except that one guy who kept twirling in my mind like an annoying bug.
As I took another huge sip of the tequila, I heard footsteps of a blurred figure just about to sit next to me.
I took a deep look at it, realizing it was that red headed guy. Marcus.
"Didn't notice you here." I said, raising my eyebrows with a grin at him.
He knitted his eyebrows, glancing at the tequila bottle. "Where did you get that?!"
I let out a giggle, then I leaned closer to him and whispered. "I snuck into Mikhail's bedroom..."
"Really?!" he said, eyes widened with shock as I nodded.
"I kept searching for the gift he brought me so that I could burn it out before he would give it to me." I murmured with frustration, then a smirk was shown on my face as I held the tequila bottle with pride. "But instead, I found this."
"Oh.." Marcus nodded, confusedly. "Why did you want to burn the gift he brought you?"
"Because he's a fucking jerk." I curled my lips with disgust, taking another sip. "Pathetic parasite creature."
I kept cursing at Mikhail, while Marcus sat there, mouth wide opened and jaw dropped as I heard him giggling.
"What did he do to you?" he asked with a curious stare as he leaned closer to me.
I silently looked back at him for a moment.
"He's just annoying." I said, again taking another sip of the tequila. "I hate him."
Marcus's eyebrows were raised in shock, he snatched the bottle from my hand and spilled a shot for himself.
"If you hate him, then I hate him, too." he nodded, looking at me as he raised his shot. "Cheers." he said, and drank the whole shot at once.
I raised the bottle at him and drank most of it, as well.
My head was hurting way too much, I groaned slightly as I rested my head on the couch.
Blankly staring at the television, I thought about the way Mikhail shared kisses with that girl.
It seemed too passionate. Craving.
Rage was a too weak description compared to how I was feeling.
"Why can't he love me instead?" I pouted, exhaustingly drained from the way I constantly asked myself that question.
