Drunk

It was a cold, and stormy night out, the wind permeating through my jacket. I was chilled to the bone, the thin layer of cloth between my skin and the outside world doing nothing to stop the frigid air. It made me wonder what exactly I was doing, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my head.

The sharp click of the door echoed against the tall, dreary building next to me. My breathing came out quick and rushed, and I hoped to God that he didn't hear me leaving.

The last thing I needed was for him to find me, out here in the freezing weather, bundled up from head to toe. He'd get suspicious, and with suspicion came curiosity.

I took a cautious step, the sound bouncing off the concrete.

With a burst of adrenaline, I realized I was free, and potentially, I could do anything I wanted. I didn't need his consent, or his permission.

I was without any binds, I was a free woman, and likewise to those before me, I felt I could do everything and anything.

The world was at my fingertips. And so, I started off into the black of the night, without any premonition of what would become of me.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

I was drunk off the feeling of freedom, and off of other, less welcomed substances.

My blood was burning, and I felt elated, sitting at that bar, without a care in the world. The bartender was called over multiple times, and I just kept drinking, intoxicating myself further. The burn of the drink left it's mark on my throat, and I felt sorry for my liver.

I felt, rather than heard, the beat of the music, pulsing in my veins. I had a feeling that my head would be susceptible to a pounding headache in the morning. But, my senses were dulled, and all I could taste, hear, feel, was the music breezing through the club.

A slower song came on, and once I heard the bone-chilling, mesmerizing voice spill over the speakers, I had to get up. I walked to the center of the dance floor, my legs quite graceful, in spite of my buzzed mind. Everybody else in the club was forgotten, although there weren't many people anyway.

The strumming of a guitar, and the melodic voice coursed in me, as I swayed.

I was deterred by how heartbreaking this song was, and wished that I wasn't instantly in love with it.

"But if I can't have you, I want this life alone."

I was so hypnotized, that I didn't notice the rough hands being set at my waist. I was too busy silently crying, the tears refusing to stop. Then, with a sniff, I relaxed back into the chest behind me, resting my head back on their shoulder.

It was a delayed reaction, and maybe, later, I would ponder over it. I jerked my hand up to see the glittering diamond, that lay innocently on my ring finger. And with a doleful sigh, I reluctantly convey my sorry to the man behind me.

I step away, and put my head down.

"Please forgive me," I fiddle with my fingers, "but I'm marr-"

Suddenly, I'm spun around.

My head lurches up, and I meet a pair of burning, bright green eyes.

I gape, at a loss for words.

He just ruefully smiles, not at all bothered by my surprise.

"Oh, hi, I really shouldn't be here doing this. I mean, I have a husband, and he wouldn't be happy with me if he saw me like this."