I’m no one’s hero, but I can be their protector. I can keep them safe from the sick bastards who thought they’d get away withbeating helpless women and children because no one wanted to admit what was really going on.
I try to stand back up, but that’s a bigger challenge than I anticipated. So instead, I scoot the beanbag closer to the hammockuntil Clara’s face is inches away from mine.
It’s the vodka in my veins that makes me tuck a strand of hair from her brow, that makes my fingers linger in her silky waves.It’s the liquor blurring my focus that makes me lean in and press a warm kiss to her full lips.
And it’s nothing but my drunken imagination that makes me feel like she’s kissing me back.
I haven’t seen Demyen for a few days, but that’s just as well. I’m too busy holding up my end
