It had been 6 months after the incident that Alex had stormed out. You had called, and called, and called. He never picked up his phone. One night, when you were feeling low, you actually went to his house and he didn't even answer his door. You had cried every night, hating yourself and hating Al. Some days you thought he had completely over reacted, he didn't even let you explain. Your dreams consisted of Alex, most of which were the last kiss you had. You remembered his chapped lips on yours, and his tiny happy sighs. You missed him, every single day. You woke up with heart ache and usually hungover.
It didn't make it any easier when you found out Alex had gotten another girlfriend, you hated her so much which was weird because you had never met her.
On a lonely Sunday evening, at around 8pm, you were on a mission to get drunk again. As you lifted the bottle to your lips, there was a knock on your door.
"Darcy?" a voice groaned from the other side of the door.
//sorry this is short!!//
