Blood Painted Windows (ON HOLD)

Dearest, Vivian...

 He hated himself for what he has done with his life. For the way he has become. For the way things turned out for he has made such unforgivable mistakes.

 He hated what he has done to his life. To his heart.

 To Vivian.

 Vivian...oh, how he irrevocably worshiped her.

 He imagined himself stroking her wavy bronze hair and kissing her beautiful soft skin. He let his hand travel again up her fair outer flesh.

 How he almost felt all of it...  just broke him. Again and again. 

 He loved her independence. Her strength. Her moments of vulnerability; when he felt like he could give her the world in his palm. 

 He loved her when she sang and danced. 

 He loved her when, one day, she covered one wall of her bedroom with pictures she drew. Floor to ceiling. A smile tried to escape his lips as he remembered, but he cannot help to let it go...-

 He gulped down the tequila shot. Never did he feel that burning others feel, and yet he really wanted to be turned to ash for real.

 He wanted to be punished for what he did...  For existing. 

 The bartender knew what he is to do. He approached him quickly and gave him another refill.

 He let his head fall.

 A hand went through his dark hair.

 He looked up to see her beautiful face. He faintly smiled and felt the ghost of a tear making its way on the outline of his lashes.

 He shook his head and took the shot-glass as quickly as unsuspiciously possible and chugged it down.

 "It's okay." she whispered. 

 He wanted to scream out and tell her to shut up. But he knew she was not really there. Just a figment of his memories. 

 That was what she used to say to pacify him. "It's okay." she said. And every time she does, his heart sinks... He could not stand her frown, ever.

 That frown reminded him of the times when she got angry. Her usually soft voice would turn to a deafening high-pitched one. He smiled remembering when she threw a chair at him and then stood with her eyes wide realizing how she did not feel how heavy it was and yet threw it at him anyway. That was how he knew he should have never pissed her off.-

 "Hey, sweetie. Are you staying here all night? Or you wanna come home with me?" Kayla....Home. He wanted to punch her jaw off for interrupting his beautiful train of thoughts. 

 He gave the smallest smile, "No, I'm staying the night. I don't feel like doing anything right now." She nodded and walked away with her hips moving side to side drawing every male's attention sitting close to the bar.

 He turned into his previous position and rested his chin on his arm...

 He cannot put his finger on the first time he has met his dearest Vivian. Somewhere in the park...perhaps?

 By the fountain he noticed her hair glowing against the setting sun. He could not but to gaze at her radiant skin. 

 He just sat on a bench and stuck his eyes on her...and her soft summer dress showing off her silhouette in the sunlight.

 Her smile is still embeded into his memory. That grin when he offered a hand to help her stable herself after she tripped. 

 Thank you, she murmured.

 A loud thud, again, broke the silence he was enjoying. He did not bother to look over his shoulder....yet he was irked of how he felt a pull in his mind letting him know that it is over. He will not feel that good for the rest of the night. 

 And he proved himself right. He did not get back that comfort he had two seconds ago. 

 Muffled noises and shouts of the brawl in the background had no willing of giving him back the peace he craves. 

 He sucked in a breathe and tried to get himself back into his fantcy land...

 Vivian was nowhere in sight. She could not show herself again. 

 He walked out of the bar with the hint of a smile at his hard lips, remembering his lost love clinging onto his arm when walking the dark streets that he roams now.