David’s POV
Since today, I had been cooped up at home.
The house was quiet—too quiet. The silence pressed against my ears, so heavy it felt like a punishment.
I sat slumped on the couch, the bitter smell of alcohol hanging around me like a suffocating fog. Empty bottles crowded the center table, some toppled onto their sides, a few rolling near the rug.
The air was thick, stagnant, the AC switched off sometime in the night. Sweat clung to my skin, sticky and uncomfortable, but I hadn’t moved for hours.
Finally, with a groan, I forced myself up. My movements were sluggish, my head pounding with a hangover that clung like vines around my skull.
I pushed aside the bottles littering the table, the clinking sound sharp in the still air.
The curtains were drawn, shutting out the sun. The
