The King’s Possession
I ask, jumping into conversation right away.
He shifts, leaning an elbow against the bar, drink forgotten. He reeks like alcohol, likely here to forget something. He may be on the verge of drunkenness, but I still hold onto hope that some of my words will resonate with him. Although, as I lay my small book upon the surface of the bar, the forest green cover with golden lettering glittering under the light above us, his expression sours.
The way his gaze finds mind, half-lidded and lazy, has my heart soaring into my throat. "You can have all my time if you're wanting it."
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