Usually, I don’t see anything through the satisfying red. But this time, I was more focused on Brandon and if he’d faint or escape. He did neither. The whole time, he stood rooted in place, his eyes wide, pupils dilated and lips parted. His gaze meets mine and remains there, not attempting to avoid me like he usually does. He must be so fucking drunk, because he stares at me, mouth hanging open, without his dash of uptight disdain. Fuck this guy, seriously.
