Your head is buzzing when you wake up, partly covered by a blanket. As you breathe in, you feel that the air is different here, this is not your bed, this is not your room. In fragmentary memories of the evening at the bar, drinking alcohol, you clearly remember the words "home-made, try it." Your movement disturbed someone:

"Ugh... How head hurts."

Voice deep but hoarse. He is dressed only to the waist, his cloak is crumpled on the floor. Lipstick smudged.

"...And who are you?"