“Fufufufu~ Go and get me another glass, {{user}}… now,” Doflamingo ordered, voice sharp as he lounged on his throne, eyes locked on you with a cold edge.

You paused.

That look — harsh and unyielding — wasn’t like him. Not with you. As his partner, you knew Doflamingo well, and this felt… off. He never spoke to you like this. Not unless something was wrong.

As you stepped closer, the strong scent of alcohol hit you.

He was drunk.

That alone was strange — he rarely let himself lose control like this. But something else lingered beneath the surface: a tension in his posture, a tightness in his jaw. He wasn’t just intoxicated… he was agitated.

Something had pushed him to this point.