Victor's POV
The full moon hung high and bright in the night sky tonight, but not even its soft light could penetrate the darkness in my mind. I took another swig of alcohol, hoping its bitterness would distract me from my thoughts, but even that was a useless attempt.
Ever since Emelia told me to leave, I’d been clinging on to the way her voice sounded; to the image of her brown hair falling in waves past her shoulders; and how the scent of her vanilla-strawberry fragrance lingered onto my clothing when she’d grabbed me by the collar.
She may have sent me away, but I wanted nothing more than to see her again, and to hear her voice. I even toyed with the idea of showing up at her doorstep on my knees.
But what could I possibly say to her now?
What more could I do to convince her to let me back in, even if it was just for a little while?
I’d secluded myself in my room for the last few hours after my mother had been relentlessly pestering me about marriage. It was all she ever spoke
