Carlos’s P.O.V.
For a long moment, the liquor had finally done me in. The weight in my chest, the sting in my throat, it all begun to blur, numbing in the edges of my mind. I couldn’t tell where the grief ended and fury began as I just sat there, still, hollow.
Then I heard that door, soft footsteps, and suddenly, that concerned figure took the shape of Harley in my dimly lit room, her arms wrapped around me. She pressed herself to me like she belonged there.
I looked down in disbelief. My fingers twitched at my sides as the bottle slipped from my hand with a thud that I didn’t even register.
“You aren’t alone, Carlos!”
A sharp tingle shot up my spine as that familiar, soft yet trembling voice was undoubtedly Harley’s, freezing me to my spot. My mind scrambled to make sense of how a
