The curtains were half-drawn, shielding the sunlight streaming in from the glass window.
In the bedroom still lingering with the smell of alcohol, Arthur's eyelashes twitched slightly.
Slowly opening his eyes, Arthur stared blankly at the ceiling for a long while before finally sitting up in bed, feeling as if his heavy body were a lump of lead.
The sheets stuck to his clammy skin, and the air was filled with the scent of alcohol and tobacco.
Almost instinctively, he reached for the pitcher by the bed, taking several large gulps of water, which only slightly alleviated his thirst. As the water slid down his throat, he felt a moment of warm comfort, but it was quickly followed by a violent reaction in his stomach, and he struggled to suppress the nausea rising within him.
