Whiskey Memories.

Whiskey Memories.

Postby `Bishop » Mon Jul 10, 2006 8:45 am

Max Bishop sat in his chair, in his office, on the top floor of the Barrack's Tower in Myrkentown. Cinnamon had only gone sixty minutes ago, and for ten of those minutes he remained before the door she left through, palm hard against the door's rough, oaken surface, eyes closed and his willpower fighting back the emtions that threatened to overflow. Though, after those ten minutes were up, Bishop returned to his desk and opened the bottom left hand drawer to pull out a bottle of his finest Khirana Whiskey and a glass.

For the next fifty minutes he drank and remembered....

Remembered those pleading, desperate eyes...

"Tell me you love me..."

"... I can't... I don't know if I do..."

"I can't stay if you don't return my love...."

"Don't go back to that place, please, just stay. If not for me, then for yourself."

Max closed his eyes and downed another swallow of the smooth but strong liquour, hoping that it would some how soothe his grief, his sorrow....

His guilt.

He couldn't tell her that he loved her. He meant to, so many times. He meant to do a lot of things for her, with her... He was just biding his time, waiting to see if those feelings came, hoping she would postpone the inevitable until he could give her the answer she so rightly deserved, that he so wanted to give her.

Unfortunately inevitable came too early.

"I can't lie to you... I respect you too much for that...."

"I never wanted your respect.... I wanted your heart...."

Then she was gone. Hurt and angry and confused and sad, all bound up in one quivering, tear stained form. She was going back, back to where she had come from, back never to return.

Oh, there was an empty promise to come back some day, to see him, to visit, to cherish the time they had shared, no matter how briefly. But Max knew - he knew - that he'd never see her again. That she was going back to that terrible place because he just couldn't say those three damnable little words that mean so much.

I love you.

The bottle of whiskey was picked up and the half empty glass was topped off. Another sigh escaped the man before he took another swallow of whiskey, wondering if he'd ever love again...

No, that was wrong.

If he'd ever be able to love someone -else- again.

As another drink was taken from the glass, steel blue eyes moved to the simple band of gold that sat on his desk. A ring that was so simple in design, but so meaningful at the same time.

A ring that drew out of him love, sorrow, anguish and resentment all at the same time. A ring that he should've let go a long time ago but couldn't, no matter how he wished.

His gaze tore itself away from that peice of jewlery, that possession he prized over everything else, to look out the window into the night. Tomorrow would come, another day would pass, just like they aways did.

Though tonight? Tonight would stand still for a while longer. Tonight he was just going to allow himself to be wonder, to wish, and to damn... Just him, his whiskey.... And the ring she gave him all those years ago, and all the memories and feelings that came with it.
`Bishop
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