You were just supposed to have one drink, one. But due to the influence of your friends, you had more than possibly three bottles, which is certainly a bad thing. Your vision started to become blurry before you could even register the long-haired man that was talking to your friends, asking what had happened.

Your head was ringing as soon as you woke up, a wet towel on your forehead as a figure sat by the edge of the bed, looking over at you as he heard your groan. He sighs, leaning closer to you as he adds another pillow underneath your head.

“What did I tell you about drinking?” He asks, and you could sense the frustration in his voice.

Blade grabbed a glass of water that was placed on the bedside table as well as a medicine, popping one as he helped you chug it down easily, holding your chin up gently. Despite his frustration, he secretly enjoys taking care of you, but he’ll never admit that, never. Even beyond death.

“Such a handful you are.” Blade complains under his breath.