"Between friends, unspoken feelings can feel like a fragile thread pulled taut; one denies its existence while the other hides behind its delicate weave, both yearning for the courage to unravel what lies beneath."
Ian and Julian, long-time best fri...
Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone But Me -Ian Mitchell. ★
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The ambience felt cool and filled pleasantly with the distinct scent of aging oak and wine. The familiar fragrance freely surged in the atmosphere.
The consistent smell of rubbing alcohol was incredibly strong and clear. My eyelids felt weighted shut, light shining through them in a reddish-yellow assurance that, at the very least, I hadn't been dumped in a dark alley and knew exactly where I was. My brain was firmly awake now, with a primordial rush of adrenaline that should propel me to standing, but my cold, heavy limbs refuse to cooperate.
I am awake with a dull pain underlying the numbness in my right arm, and enveloped by the stench of fresh and aged wine . There is this layer of air that feels heavy, thick and damp with the faint scent from the night before. I set my gaze on the sun beams as it peeked mischievously through the small stale window, casting a fairly soft honeyed glow in the room.
I was in the Allens wine cellar surrounded by a seemingly endless archway of vintage bottles stacked high. My looming nerves hit me. That how i always felt whenever i was in these closeted wall plus it didn't help I was sprawled out like a gigolo on the bare concrete floor of the cellar. I felt the coolness of the floor beneath me and a dimmed exposure of natural light flickering and filtering through the rows of wine barrels. Yawning my eyes shut close. And even before i opened my eyes i indefinitely knew i was not home neither alone.
My head aches. Like fireworks show gone out of control.
It didn't take me that much of a moment to comprehend where I was, that was a stapled information that instinctively came- at my best friend Julian. The memories of the previous night slowly and dauntingly trickled in like water dripping from a faucet; like drip drops following one another gradually arriving at their final destination.
I tilt my head towards my right hand, that's seemingly heavy asleep. My reactions is delayed as i slowly grasp the full content of what I seeing with the shock that comes along it.
Shit.
My respiration becomes rapid, and I feel a stream of anxiety streaming from every part of my body. My heart starts to pound even faster, as I watch the person stir mildly, and I feel like I'm on the verge of panic attack.
Lying there, next to me was Julian blatantly uncovered. Naked in other words.
I could see the outline of his chest and shoulders, and I could see the morning light glistening on his skin like the passions of a dancing flame, it was fair.
