DAMIAN
'You're lying in filth,' is the first thing my brain registers when I open my eyes to behold the harsh streaks of morning light filtering in.
I do a quick scan of my surroundings, startled to find the entire place strewn in an absolute mess. Then it all comes crashing down upon me, the memories of last night.
I'd paid a visit to Stellëza's grave and drank myself to a blinding stupor on the drive home, thrashed her room in a rage and the rest is history.
The giant portrait of her which is usually covered, is laid bare, the cover lying discarded on the bed.
I should cover it up. I don't want anyone else beholding the treasure that used to be mine and is now death's.
As I try to stand, a terrible headache threatens to split my skull in half. I groan, reaching for something sol
