"Thank you. Return safely,"

"I'm not sorry. I thought one drink wouldn't hurt..."

"It's Kamian's weakness for alcohol. Don't worry too much."

Corner and Jex supported Kamian, who had fallen unconscious from drinking, and carefully moved him onto the bed. Both of them were drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. Kamian was not an average build.

Thank goodness Holt's house is close to ours... Otherwise, we almost left him in the middle of the street.

I escorted the two of them to the door. I waved my hand towards Corner, who continued to apologize.

"It's alright. Oh, Jex! Don't stay out too late!"

But as I said those words, it was clear that they would return home with the rising morning sun. It seemed that Corner and Debra, due to the once-a-year party, enjoyed themselves until the next day when they would be bedridden, groaning.

"I'm not in a position to tell myself to take care of my body."

I stretched and looked up at the second floor. No matter how much I thought about it, Kamian's weakness seemed to be alcohol, not my blood. If Luke had succeeded in getting Kamian to drink, not only could he have saved thousands of lives, but he could have also had an ending that said, "Luke lived happily ever after."

"...Perhaps getting drunk makes one overly honest, exacerbating the situation."

Whether there could be a worse situation in that world, I couldn't say for sure.

I became serious, imagining things that hadn't even happened yet. Finally, I let out a sigh, as if to release unnecessary worries all at once.

"Should I change his clothes at least?"

I stood with my arms crossed in front of Kamian's firmly closed door, contemplating. However, the answer came quickly without much thought. Impossible. It wasn't just a matter of inconvenience; it was something I couldn't do in the first place. I didn't want to cause a dislocated shoulder while lifting Kamian's limbs, who had crossed over into the unconscious realm.

I lightly turned my foot. However, Kamian's shirt, drenched in alcohol, grazed my fingertips like a jagged nail.

"...It's not like I'll die from sleeping in wet clothes. It's just a bit unpleasant in the morning."

I don't even spill the alcohol, so I don't understand why I feel so uneasy.

"Ah, damn it."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

In the end, I turned my body back and opened Kamian's door. Kamian was sound asleep, lying face down on the bed. I tapped his back while sitting on the edge of the bed, and his eyelids slowly lifted.

"Kamian."

His lethargic pupils, as if on purpose, captured my face with a subtle light. Can a drunkard look so enchanting? I involuntarily furrowed my brow. It was my defense mechanism to prevent myself from being captivated by his face.

"If you can get up, wash up and sleep."

The actions seemed somewhat unsteady compared to usual, but there was no staggering fierceness. It seems rather disoriented. I withdrew my arm, which I had extended as a thought to catch them if they fell, with a slight sense of disappointment.

Kamian, leaning their back and head against the wall, slowly opened their drowsy eyes and gazed at me. Why are they looking at me like that? Their persistent gaze made me uncomfortable.

"...Why are you getting all worked up, saying I woke you up?"

A faint crease formed on Kamian's brow.

"Worked up?"

A low voice, flowing subtly through slightly parted lips. It was a voice that suited their hazy, unfocused gaze. Although Kamian was the one intoxicated, I felt myself being drawn into their atmosphere. The ability to captivate a person through the mere flow of air could truly be called mastery. If there were no constraints against falling in love with Kamian, I might have lost my senses and engaged in a passionate kiss.

In an effort to wash away the sticky residue of a peculiar energy clinging to my skin, I deliberately spoke cheerfully.

"I came to wake you up because I was thinking about you, but you keep giving me these intimidating looks."

"I've never given you an intimidating look."

"Just now, those eyes of yours were incredibly impure."

Kamian blinked their eyes slowly, rubbing them with the back of their hand and pressing on them with their palm. After a while of acting as if they were in agony, the area around their eyes eventually turned a light pink.

"I was lost in thought."

Superficially, their tone seemed nonchalant, but there was a sense of injustice seeping through.

"About what?"

"What wrong have I done?"

"Suddenly reflecting on yourself out of the blue."

"Look, you were frowning."

"......."

Their elongated index finger slowly swept through the gap between my eyebrows. Despite our similar body temperatures, the spot where their finger touched felt excessively hot.

"Did I smell bad while sleeping?"

"Is that a genuine question?"

"I see."

Kamian averted their gaze abruptly. Feelings of embarrassment, confusion, and frustration were piling up within them. My heart involuntarily crumbled in the face of Kamian's weakened state. Yet, on the other hand, I couldn't help but feel perplexed.

I lightly tapped Kamian's back of the hand that was looking gloomy, as if to console them, and spoke.

"I never thought it was repulsive. Even your sleeping figure was dazzling to my eyes."

"......."

"You need more self-objectification. A lot more."

"Why?"

"So as not to engage in baseless and trivial talk."