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They say first love hurts the most, but you never expected it to be this painful. The sensation of him runs through your bloodstream. Even his scent still lingers on your skin, mingling with the alcohol you drank. Although he's gone, his presence still resides within you.
"One glass of whisky please", grunts a man beside you.
Beneath the dim lights, you watch his lips overlap the tip of his cigarette. Blowing grey clouds that seems to fog your lines of sight. He begins to breathe in the essence of the smoke, it almost smelt like burnt coffee. He was too obvious.
"A heartbroken lover boy", you state to no one in particular.
He twirls his glass between his fingers before sipping in the bittersweet taste of whisky; burning the walls of his throat. The man observes you from the corner of his eyes. Despite your ghostly, sick complexion, you were fairly sober. But something familiar ignites within those eyes of yours. He could feel it.
"Heartbroken too huh?"
You scoff, "I guess you could say that."
You steal his cigarette from his lips, mildly tasting a hint of whisky that he drank from earlier on. Like breathing fire, you inhale the intoxicating flavor of his cigarette. Smoke gusts out from your lips, blinding his vision in exchange.
You lightly bit the end of his cancer stick with your teeth then leaned in; returning to its original place. Strange, he thought. When he gazed into your eyes, somehow, he felt like he was back in high school. Like the young teenager he was, fooling around with love. His first love and first heartbreak.
"[Y/N] [L/N]."
"Sawamura Daichi."
Perhaps, being heartbroken led both of you to each other.
