The night before had ended with Garrika slumped across his back, her weight surprisingly light for someone who had downed so many drinks. Trafalgar had only allowed himself a single drink, but Garrika… she hadn't stopped. Her tolerance was impressive—more than most men he had seen—but even that had limits. By the time she laughed herself into hiccups, she was far past them.
He had carried her through the quiet halls of the hotel, ignoring the curious glances from passing staff. Their rented room was on the first floor, and once inside, Garrika collapsed onto the bed without protest. Trafalgar lingered a moment, watching her curl up against the sheets, then turned on his heel. He would not sleep there. After rejecting her, sharing the same bed—or even the same room—was not part of his plans.
Instead, he rented a smaller single room nearby. It was nothing special: a narrow bed, a cramped desk, and a small bathroom. But it offered him something more valuable than comfort—distance.
