The boy seemed to have been woken up by my shivering. He opened his eyes and sat up. He ruffled his hair and turned his head. Then he noticed me.
"You're awake? When did you wake up?"
I didn't say anything, and I didn't dare look at him, clinging to some weak but stupid hope.
Suddenly, he reached out and touched my face. He rubbed his fingertips over it and then smiled.
"Why are you crying?"
He rubbed his wet fingers on the blanket and got off the bed. He picked up the clothes on the floor and mumbled, "What a rough night! Haha!"
His tone was casual and he sounded like a victor who was extremely proud of himself.
Just a few hours ago, he had conquered a city. How could he not be proud?
"Since you're awake, why don't you put on some clothes?"
He threw my clothes at me. Seeing that I was still not reacting, he chuckled and asked, "How long do you plan to sit there like a fool?"
