a groan escaped pale lips. he was so fucking hungover. how could he tell? firstly, the rays shining through the curtain that dimly lit up the room were far too bright for his crimson eyes.
“fuck…”. couldn’t god just turn off the sun?
secondly, the drumming bass of a headache was booming in head. gilbert ran his fingers through his snowy white hair. how fucking wasted did he get? regret settled in as he realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room—







