Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
Drinking always brought on the visions, the face of an angel. So he drank a lot, let the alcohol consume his mind, cause his thoughts to go hazy just for a glimpse of her. Reality would mesh with fantasy and he wouldn't be able to tell that he was hallucinating. It didn't matter then.
Madge sat with him, her hand gently resting on his leg. "You have to stop drinking," her voice was gentle. "I don't like it very much."
"Who said anything about drinking?" Gale said back. He watched her, the hypnotizing glow that rimmed around her hair, the light flush of her cheeks.
"Gale," her voice was pained. "You're not helping anyone by getting drunk every night." His gray eyes met her blue ones. "I want you to stop."
His voice was weak, "I just want to see you."
"I'm right here," she reassured him. "I've always been right here, and I'm not going to go anywhere if you stop drinking." Of course, that was a lie. Gale wasn't able to tell considering he was drunk, but she wasn't there at all. "Come on, let's go to bed."
She led him gently to the bedroom, keeping a light hold on his hand. "You should come over more," he murmured as he lowered himself against the mattress.
"I will," she replied, taking the spot next to him. He swan in her eyes, inhaled her sweet scent. "Get some sleep, Gale."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" he asked, and she nodded. Her fingertips grazed across his skin and his eyes flittered shut. "I'm so sorry I left you… so sorry I…"
"Shhh…" Madge cooed. "It wasn't your fault."
Gale fell asleep mumbling, "But it was, but it was."
The next morning he awoke to an empty bed again, two empty bottles of wine left on the kitchen table yet only one wineglass. Gale closed his eyes again and again, praying to be taken back to the night before. He pressed his his eyes in and groaned it wasn't your fault. Of course it was his fault, it had always been his fault.
Madge wasn't to be found in his bed the next morning, her hands no longer brushing against his skin. The only time he could see her was when the sunlight danced through the window or at night when the fireflies spun in the sky. But that was never enough so he resorted back to the wine, the place where he could see the angel that had always been with him. The angel he begged for forgiveness again and again despite having been forgiven since the beginning.