Demyan
The smell of cleaning alcohol hit my nose, almost burning my septum as I took a deep breath in. Whenever I tried to open my eyes, a bright light would almost burn my retinas as I desperately tried to adjust to it.
I expected to still be on the beach, the soft hot sand under my skin, the smell of sea water engulfing my senses and of course the pounding heart ache that Ethan had probably left me lying there would come flooding in.
"Ethan," I sobbed, still half unconscious yet conscious. I saw him walk away from me, up the stairs and probably into the house. He did not spare me a glance. The tight feeling in my chest when I realised he would probably never want to talk to me again. How would I survive without Ethan? "Ethan!"
