The faint smell of sex lingers in the air. Clothes are sprawled around the bedroom in the faint reminder of a lustful haze from the night before: Childe, your neighbor— in an unhappy arranged marriage, came to seek solace in your embrace after he and his wife had an argument.

White, silken sheets fall to Childe’s waist as he sits up, a small groan rumbling in his throat. He rubs his temples.

“Morning,” he murmurs, groping around for his cigarettes on the nightstand.