He didn't put the glass down. He simply looked into the amber liquid, took a breath, and prepared for the next storm. Because as long as the music played and Ayşegül was in the room, Poyraz Karayel would keep standing—broken, perhaps, but never finished.
"Is it?" he asked, his voice a jagged edge. "Because every time I breathe, I hear the sound of something snapping inside. This life... it's a graveyard of broken toasts." poyraz_karayelden_kac_kadeh_kirildi_poyraz_kara...
"The glass is still whole, Poyraz," she whispered, covering his hand with hers. He didn't put the glass down