"You.....you were concerned about me?" He asked me and I cursed myself mentally. Why do I have such a big mouth?
His drunken self was more insecure than the obnoxious side he often shows when he is sober. They say, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. And I could clearly see how true it was.
"You need to get into bed now, Mr. Black. It's late." I said, and he looked at me with a sigh. He wanted to argue. I can see the rebel in his gray, bloodshot eyes. I can see the urge to throw a fit but it gets diluted very soon.
"So you weren't concerned about me, Lazarus?" He asked me.
The way his deep, rough voice rumbled out of his chest, I felt a wave of shiver running down my spine. The way he calls my name. It's nothing unique. But it's not very usual as well. It's different. It
