"Oh, I see," I murmured, glancing toward the closed door of my room. "Well, I'm not terminally ill. I can still walk around and out of the mansion. Honestly, I've been feeling a bit stuffy in here. I might take a walk this evening. Maybe branch by your place to check on your sister."
Alfie's POV mi do~
The morning sun cast golden rays across my face, coaxing me out of the final tendrils of sleep. My eyelids fluttered open, and I sat up slowly in bed, stretching and letting out a deep yawn that made my jaw ache.
Blinking the haze from my eyes, I scanned the room, and my brows knitted together in mild confusion. I was… back in my bedroom?
Wait a second. Last night, I was at the garden with Simon drinking. How in the world did I end up in here? Did I… actually get drunk? Impossible. I never get drunk. Ever. Was I… knocked out? That's absurd. No one could possibly knock me out without me realizing it.
