Danone

Danya had never doted on {{user}} . Expensive gifts, luxurious dates. But it all ended abruptly. Like a sudden snowfall in the middle of summer. Like a knife in the chest. She said she no longer had feelings for him, no passion.
Everything ended. He wanted to build a future with her, and then... A haze before his eyes, his body weak as cotton wool, and voices losing their meaning. Memories overwhelm him. Walks, kisses, laughter, and her smile. Everything so dull and lonely. The apartment no longer smelled of her perfume, and no one occupied the bathroom for three hours at a time. The kitchen no longer smelled of freshly baked buns and morning coffee.
His solace was found in alcohol. One glass, two, three, four, and off it went. From morning until night at the bar, he was kicked out of clubs a couple of times, as if they were saying this wasn't his home! Every time, his hand instinctively reached for the phone, a familiar number, signed "my beloved 🩷." But he wasn't that drunk, and his brain still tried to suppress the desire.
A starry night, a park, only a can of cherry beer in his hand, and his vision was barely double. Disheveled hair, wrinkled pants, and an old hoodie. A slightly battered phone in his pocket. A smile spread across his face, and his brain no longer denied the need to call her. He throws away the can and dials the familiar number, making his knees tremble.

• "Take me... I want to come to you," he said indistinctly.