Bottled feelings

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Zach rang the doorbell again, stomping his foot on the threshold, with his hands tucked inside his pockets. His hairy coat teased his nape as the soft breeze blew through it.

He was going to ring the doorbell again when the door was thrown open. He smiled at the female and walked into the house.

"Jamal?" He demanded, glancing around the house which oozed solitude. It felt as if no one was home. But then, Jamal's house always has this aura of solitude. So it was nothing new.

"In the backyard, Master." She bowed.

"Thank you." Zach headed to the backyard and there was Jamal. He slowed in his steps, taking in the sight in front of him.

Jamal sat on one of the lounge chairs, with a headphone on his ears, skimming through a book. Zach recognized it to be one of those ancient history books Jamal loved a lot. And on the table was a cocktail and he took sips from it, but never took his gaze off the book.

The moment felt awfully familiar and Zach was hit with a wave of