Felicity approached her friendâs home with a small gift in hand. It was some old fancy bourbon the man at the liquor store insisted was the best. Even if Desmond didnât like it, he could push it off on other guest. Apparently it was old enough to brag about. She wouldnât know, she only stuck to sweet wine and blood. Lightly, she knocked on the door three times and took a step back while she waited.Â
Her wardrobe was a little tame, instead of her usual. Pink was still one of the prominent colors, but her jeans were a baby blue that matched her soft pink blouse. A white jacket to keep warm and a pair of flats to keep her feet from getting anymore sore.Â
âHi.â She greeted with a warm smile, holding up the bottle of bourbon that had a little red bow on it. âI didnât know what to bring, but the man at the liquor store told me this was the best. Figured if you didnât like it, you could serve it some friends.â It was the thought that counts, even if the gift wasnât what he wanted. âItâs been a while. How have you been?â Â
@desmond-byrneâ
