Drink

"You, who are you?" Zephyrine asked vaguely as she broke away from my hold.

By the time I saw this, I was already lying on the sofa, looking at the ceiling while starting to think back to the content described in the diary. Indeed, if it's true that Leslie is such an excellent dancer as the author describes, then she definitely shouldn't be nestled so lowly in a small classroom teaching dance... Thinking that, I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it was already half past eleven. But... ...Zephyrine hasn't come back yet. If she didn't go to have dinner with Becky, and if she didn't have to work at the radio station, where the hell did she go?

The smell of alcohol on Zephyrine's body was so thick that I found it hard to even breathe, "Tired?... What's wrong with you?" While holding her shaky body, I reached out my hand to close the iron door. Unexpectedly, however, after turning my head sideways, I realised that there was still a person standing outside the door, and I froze in