Crazy Billionaire: What Do You Want From Me?
I need to know who the sound belongs to.
I strain to see, but there's nothing to see, only the oppressive darkness. The tears continue to echo, relentless in their sorrow.
I need to find the source of those tears to understand and to offer comfort.
With a slow, deliberate effort, I force my eyelids to open, welcoming the faintest hints of light. And there, before me, are emerald-green eyes.
For a moment, I can't help but be lost in their depths. Beautiful eyes. However, as beautiful as they are, I notice they're red, puffy, and burdened by grief and exhaustion.