Yan drooled, muttering, “I didn’t have lunch either…….” But no one paid attention to his words.

In the secretive and tingling atmosphere, Nicholas shifted his gaze slyly, and Maxime and Florian sharpened their eyes as if digging into the relationship between the two people.

Eek.

Marianne bit her lips unconsciously. Her heart thumped. She seemed to be getting drunk. The hastily consumed alcohol spread throughout her body along her blood vessels.

Otherwise, there was no reason for her heart to flutter like this. There was no reason for her to get hot like this.

“…….”

She silently glared at Christoph. He scrunched his eyebrows with an awkward expression at her resentful stare and then scratched the edge of his eyebrow with his index finger.

“Did you hate the sandwich?”

It was an uncertain voice. Marianne brought the remaining alcohol to her lips instead of the sandwich.

“So, what is the relationship between you two?”

Maxime asked Christoph subtly, yet pointedly. Florian feigned disinterest but pricked up his ears, and Yan asked in a surprised expression, “Relationship?”

“So that’s why you say you’re a policeman.”

Maxime looked back at Christoph, clicking his tongue at Yan’s insensitivity. Yan pouted his lips with a sullen face after being rebuked.

But Christoph had no intention of answering. Instead, he scanned the unfamiliar atmosphere of the bar with his eyes. The tavern where the workingclass men were boisterously talking after finishing their work.

“Tsk.”

“Come, come, don’t be like that. Yan, you go get some more alcohol.”

“Me? But the youngest is right there…….”

Saying that and pointing at Marianne, Yan obediently got up from his seat after receiving Christoph’s cold stare.

The grumbling about seniors, new recruits, and youngsters was drowned out by the rough voices of the men and couldn’t be heard properly.

“Christoph, you don’t seem to like alcohol?”

Florian spoke in an irritable voice. He wasn’t particularly angry; his tone was just naturally sharp.

“Alcohol.”

Christoph looked down at his glass instead of answering. The brown liquid hadn’t decreased by even a sip.

He didn’t dislike alcohol. He just hated the moments when reason disappeared due to it.

Florian, who gave up on getting an answer from Christoph, snatched a new glass from Yan’s hand. The alcohol went around a few times.

Christoph found this place terribly boring. Flushed faces, conversations reeking of alcohol, and noisy sounds flying everywhere. Nothing was to his taste.

But Marianne was here. That alone made this place meaningful to him. He realized that too late.

Stupid fool.

At the moment when Christoph was quietly cursing,

“?”

He felt a heavy weight on his left arm. He froze as he turned his head carelessly.

Marianne’s forehead thumped against his shoulder.

“Umm.”

A moaning sound flowed from her mouth, along with the sharp smell of alcohol.

Christoph couldn’t even breathe deeply. He was cautious, fearing that this moment would break with a slight movement. His left shoulder embraced a faint heat.

Whether it was because of her touch after a long time or Marianne’s drunkenness, he couldn’t tell. But he was certain that her scent had clouded his mind.

“Marianne?”

Christoph called her in a soft voice, as if holding back something. The moment he touched her shoulder,

“I don’t like it, Christoph.”

She shook her head. For a moment, Christoph’s face lost expression. He coldly replayed her voice, saying she disliked it, in his head.

Slowly opening his eyes, Christoph clenched his fist. Marianne grabbed his arm with both hands.

“Don’t tell me to let go.”

“…….”

Ah.

Christoph unconsciously opened his mouth slightly. He looked dazed, as if he had been struck in the head with a blunt object.
Marianne’s plaintive voice lingered in his ears. She clung tightly to him, as if she thought Christoph would push her away.

“I don’t want to, I won’t go, Christoph.”

“I won’t let you go, Marianne.”

Christoph slowly raised his hand and caressed her cheek. The warmth touching his palm was hotter than usual. A hot heat was conveyed wherever his fingers touched.

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not drunk.”

Marianne shook her head stubbornly like a child. A light laugh erupted from his teeth. It was the first time he had seen Marianne drunk.

Was she the type who became a child when drunk?

“All drunks in the world say they aren’t drunk.”

His voice was tender, as if comforting a child.

“It’s true. I’m not drunk at all.”

Marianne protested, seemingly wronged, her halflidded eyes looking sleepy, as if she would fall asleep at any moment. Her eyelids kept covering her azure eyes.

Christoph swept back her loose hair behind her ear. Marianne rubbed her cheek against his palm.

Somehow, that ordinary action looked exceedingly secretive, as if he had seen something he should not have.

“Alright, get up. Let’s go back.”

Christoph got up first. He sat on his knees in front of her and effortlessly lifted Marianne up. Her arms and legs hung limply.

She was light.