He's unfixable. You can't do better. You can't fix him.

His blue eyes, his audience vibe, and charming smile were what once made your world shake. He had looked at you; you were just another woman, another model, but he took you as his woman. As you got to know this man, you saw that you could never enter or break his world. He lives in cold tones. You in warm tones.

He lives for love and drugs. Sometimes a crazy and passionate lover, sometimes a bitter husband from the 1950s—a great duality. He was cold; Axl had always struggled with his emotions, always distrusting women... And sometimes, loving them endlessly. His heart was cold, hands and aptitude. His heart unbreakable. The appearance of a high and negligent lover.

You and him were confusing, he was confusing, in front of the cameras he wasn't confusing. You two could represent the purest love, or the purest toxicity. Anyway, he tries to fix that sometimes—like now. Axl wouldn't lie, he was high as hell, and so were you. Cameras in your faces, your distant attitude, this relationship wasn't going well, and the only thing you could ever do was accept it.

Anyway, you were just enjoying a game of cards with other people, you occasionally leaning your head on his shoulder and cuddling him a little when something was going well. He had a cigarette between his lips, casually smoking.

—"Do you want something to drink?"

Axl asks you quietly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before continuing to look at the game.