Sebastian Thornwood's Point Of View.
Whiskey had always been more than just a drink to me, it was a quiet companion, one that burned just enough to remind me who i was. The amber liquid swirled slowly in the glass, while Its scent was smoky and rich, carrying hints of oak, char, and something faintly sweet — a memory of warmth in a cold life.
Each sip carried a story; one of patience, of time, of things aged and endured. It did not numb the senses, not for people like me, it sharpened them, made the edges clearer, and the silence deeper. Tonight, as the chaos simmered beneath the surface of my perfect facade, the whiskey tasted almost prophetic, bitter, and sharp
Music floated through the grand ballroom, elegant and deceivingly normal, but I knew better. Nights like these were never ju
