Scars Of A Broken Bond

Their dinner comprised a serving of noodles, much to Tyrone’s chagrin, as his typically handsome countenance contorted with discomfort.

How could something as simple as noodles taste so unpalatable?

In that moment, Tyrone even found himself contemplating that perhaps mutton was a more agreeable option.

Post-dinner, they embarked on a leisurely stroll through the bustling streets.

“Are you heading back?” Tyrone inquired.

Sabrina shook her head, her gaze resting upon him as she beamed, “I have a yearning to go to the bar.”

After a contemplative pause, he responded, “Indulging in nighttime drinks isn’t advisable.”

“If you don’t, then I will.”

Be it due to concern for Sabrina’s well-being or his own health, he could not partake in the consumption of alcohol.

silence, Sabrina huffed in

come, I shall go

minutes later, they arrived at the basement bar within the confines of the club, carefully selecting a

while a steaming glass of

of the bar was bathed in dim, sultry lighting, with kaleidoscopic beams emanating from the dance floor. On

with Sabrina’s sensibilities, her musical

seized her, prompting her to gently nudge Tyrone’s arm. Curious,

grace us with a song,” she proposed with a glint of mischief in her

he replied, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s generally not permitted for regular

serves me right, this establishment is under Tyson’s proprietorship,” she remarked, arching an

himself grappling for a response, taken aback by

midst of Tyrone’s phone call, Tyson was engrossed in

his poker companion and