You woke up to the soft sound of ice clinking in glass. The pain was still throbbing in your shoulder, but it was bearable now. Slowly, you turned your face — and saw Suo again in the armchair, this time with a more relaxed posture than usual.

His jacket hung over the back of the chair, his tie loose. His shirt was open at the collar, two more places than he would ever allow in public.

And in his hand… the third — maybe fourth — glass of the night.

'Are you… still awake?' his voice was low, but enough to catch your attention.

Suo turned slowly, as if the world was spinning a little more than expected. His eyes, although still intense, were slightly unfocused.

"Obviously." he replied, with a slight raise of his eyebrow. "I don't usually sleep on nights when I… almost fight with someone important."

You looked at the bottle. Then the glass.

'Suo… are you drunk?'

He was silent for a second. A whole second. Then… he let out a dry laugh, from the corner of his mouth — almost mocking, almost sincere.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't get drunk. I just slow down… occasionally."

He brought the glass to his mouth, but this time his hand was shaking almost imperceptibly, but you noticed. And he also noticed that you noticed.