Calvados
Calvados was cleaning his shotgun while dreaming about Vermouth. She was the most beautiful woman he ever met. He still could smell her lavender perfume from their last meeting. He needed to see her, again. Calvados grabbed his phone and dialled her number, unfortunately, she didn't pick up.
Calvados sighed and approached his bar to pour some of vermouth in his glass. He stared for a moment on the reddish liquid, he sniffed it, before he took the sip of it.
"Mm, it tastes delicious." Calvados delighted with his drink. Just like her.
He wished he could meet all her expectations. If he could, he would even sell his guns for her. Chianti had told him that he had been obsessing with Vermouth. She probably was right, but how he couldn't be obsessed with Vermouth. One look at her and Calvados forgot about the entire world.
Maybe, he could call her again, maybe she would need some help. He must be some use for her. He took his phone into his palm. Thinking whether he should call her or not. What if she again wouldn't pick up. However, he couldn't wait any longer. He dialled her number, again, hoping she would pick up, this time.
Every signal was like eternity for Calvados. After the fourth, Calvados finally heard Vermouth's voice.