Rosalia’s POV:
When I get downstairs it doesn’t take me long to find where Ash went. Following the soft crackling sound of a fire, I end up in a large living room area where I can see he’s sitting watching the flames. “Hey,” I venture nervously and he half turns. “What’s wrong?” Is my next question when I see the look on his face.
“Nothing, just can’t seem to… nevermind.” He doesn’t finish his sentence but takes a mouthful of the drink next to him. I give him a strange look and hunt around the room for something. Grabbing the nearest bottle, I hug it close to me before sitting with my back leaning against a chair's leg. Tipping it to my lips, the alcohol burns down my throat, but I welcome the pain.
“Don’t lie, Ash, I know something’s wrong. Please talk to me.” He gives ……
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