Sol woke up the next day, barely remembering anything that happened the previous night. What he last remembered was a familiar scent that continued to lull him to sleep, falling to a state where he became unbothered by his surroundings.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already dawn and Gin was already about to carry him again. Fortunately, Sol had seen it and was able to stop him just in time.
"I have legs," Sol said.
Gin looked at him, "No one said you don't."
Sol frowned and was about to utter more when Gin turned and picked up the huge purse instead and began to walk. Torvald and his two men were already on the side watching them in silence.
The cold morning air touched Sol's skin as he took his own steps to join them.
It wasn't as if he hated being carried by Gin at all. He just hated the idea of being a handicapped to him. He didn't know why but it was beginning to bother him a lot recently.
