"Mhhh."
Stiles woke up to the sight of the ceiling, not failing to notice the colorful flowers that decorated it.
His eyes felt hazy so he rubbed the back of his palm against them in hopes of washing away the feeling.
"Uhh, what happened…?"
Stiles muttered under his breath, struggling to piece together the fragments of his memory.
His memory was foggy, causing him to wonder what happened.
'Did I drink…?'
At that moment, he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the female beside him.
Suddenly, the feeling he had craved surfaced, causing his fragmented memory to piece together—his parents, arriving at Kynburgh, George's conditions to take the throne, and the night with Eve—how he cried and shared his history as she shared hers in return.
Despite the vividness of the memories, Stiles still found it hard to believe that all these things truly occurred—especially last night.
