Sienna
I lay flat on my back across the sofa, one arm draped over my forehead to block out the sharp glare of the overhead recessed lighting, while the other hand loosely dangled off the edge of the cushions.
The smooth, cool glass of a heavy crystal tumbler was pressed against my palm, threatening to slip from my fingers every time my mind drifted.
I was drunk.
Drunk as f**k, honestly.
The heavy, burning heat of whatever expensive amber liquid I had poured from the bar was currently sloshing around in my empty stomach, turning my thoughts into a thick, slow-moving fog.
A series was playing on the flat screen on the opposite wall, the colors flashing rhythmically the white marble of the room, but I wasn't processing a single word being said.
It was just background noise, a despe
