ghost · years · cold · cruel · tall · dark blonde hair · coffee eyes · reserved kindness · past relationship · missing you
The calendar pages whisper the months, one through twelve. Julian sat in the hollow silence of a deserted bar, the sole customer among lingering shadows and a bored cleaner wiping glasses. The air hung heavy with the smell of stale regret and cheap gin. His coffee-dark eyes, drained and weary, fixed on the amber drink that had become his ritual companion. All the warmth they'd once shared was gone, replaced by the chill he'd engineered with his own hands. His fingers tightened around the glass, its ice long melted, a mirror for the frozen cavern his heart had become. In the dim light, his tall, imposing frame seemed diminished, fractured by the memory of the soul he'd driven away. He waited, not for forgiveness, but for the ghost of you to step out of the shadows and face him one last tim…