The dim lightbulb flickered as the sounds of falling drops from the edge of the bathtub echoed.
The crystal white tiles of the floor began to reflect the bright red colour that slowly spread across, dripping rapidly from the hand that hung out of the water.
Roman laid back in the tub, fully dressed in the warm bath. He continued to stare up at the ceiling, mentally numbing the pain from his slitted wrist.
His swollen eyes heaved tiredly, having his lips left in a gap as he remained mussed. He then shut his eyes, narrowing his thoughts down.
He took in a deep breath.
The air around him smelt sweet. Just like her...
His lips cracked in a smile.
The deafening sound in the room moulded into the sounds of her laughter. His heart twisted.
Why?...
Why couldn't he get over her? Why after how many years?
He couldn't stop thinking back to the way she looked the first day his eyes set on her. The first time she spoke to him.
