The next morning, Guilin was already awake before the sun had properly risen.
He sat on the edge of his bed with one hand pressed against his forehead, staring blankly at the floor. His eyes were red from exhaustion, and dark circles had formed beneath them after a night without proper sleep. He looked as though he had aged several years in a single night.
He had not slept at all.
The room next to his had been far too loud.
At first, he had tried to ignore it. He had turned over, pulled the blanket over his head, and told himself that the walls of the inn were simply too thin. But the sounds had continued throughout the night, leaving him painfully aware of exactly what was happening on the other side of the wall.
Kui's voice.
Aok's voice.
The quiet sounds that followed.
Guilin had clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw hurt by morning.
It had been torture.
