𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐀. 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

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▸┈ " 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 " ❀°♡⋆....

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Another downpour strikes the streets of London as the winter season persists in its terror on the large island. Citizens alike are racing to return to their homes to shelter from endless rain, but a few others have decided to stay in pubs and towns. Most of them arrived from work to satisfy their craving for alcohol but a few others have different reasons. Such is a man named Arthur Kirkland, who drank recklessly in a local pub.

He drank to forget and dull the burdens that made him sick.

Arthur wasn't the only person being served today and he hated it. There were many people today because of a sports event. He used to give a shit, but with how his life has been going, he couldn't care less. His car was parked in the lot, waiting to be driven home, but he didn't budge.

He drank. Shot after shot, until he was tipsy and he was on the verge of blacking out.

Arthur held his composure for hours. It was something he had trained himself to do so he could take in more alcohol. He didn't act out on his emotions and didn't do outrageous things like how he might have when he was younger. Instead, he was still, with his emerald eyes unmoving. He stared at the empty shot glass before he raised his hand to ask the bartender for another hit of whiskey.

He felt sick but wanted one more.

The man tending the counter looked at him with a raised brow. "You've had enough, mate. How 'bout you relax and lose some steam?" the worker told him. Arthur never looked at him but he lowered his hand. He didn't want to fight the man. They knew each other. The blonde frequented this bar, which was a habit that didn't start until recently.

"Fine," Kirkland would say. He'll take the man's advice, but only because he hated the idea of him driving home after heavily drinking. He also knew that the bartender was right and that he'd get more sick with the final shot.

With his hand, he swirled the empty glass around. He let the bottom hit the wooden counter many times. It was to stimulate his mind and keep himself away from the noise that the other patrons made. Arthur

Their screams and shouts sound all too familiar, despite it having different contexts. They sound like him and soon they sound exactly like him. It was his brain playing tricks again. Arthur knew what was going to happen. He couldn't help but remind himself of what happened a few months ago. He hated it, but his mind refused to let things go. It's the reason why he wanted to drink so much.

He wants to forget the day- That terrible day.

It played in his mind like a DVD. The memory disk was inserted and there was no way to eject it. Arthur had to play it out in his mind before he could have some relief. He can't stop this sort of thing. The screen was vivid and he hated it.

"Fucking hell- not this again," he'd mutter to himself. The blonde bit his lip as he stared at the wooden counter. Everything played out like a slideshow, displaying a rainy day such as this. The sun was already gone and the stars were nowhere to be seen. It was already late at night.

There weren't that many cars on the road that day. The streets were empty. It was just him and his wife in the vehicle, safely driving down the lanes. Arthur remembered he was on the verge of sleeping in the passenger seat, as he had too much booze in his system. His wife, (Y/n) was driving them home to their cozy, one-story house at the edge of London.

She made conversation with him in the hopes to keep him awake. Her laugh rings throughout his ears as he listened to himself slur his responses to her questions. The blonde had a smile on his face and he too chuckled at his demeanor.