"What's wrong with her?" Lyn asked, her voice soft with concern.
"Alcohol," Ken replied, his gaze still fixed on the chandeliers above as though the answer weighed little on his tongue.
Lyn let out a small breath, shaken by the thought. "Oh my goodness… She's in a bad state. She needs help."
Ken shifted closer then, carefully pulling the blanket higher over her shoulders as if that alone could shield her from everything else. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice lower now. "But her parents won't even agree she's sick."
A brief silence settled between them, stretching quietly through the chamber.
"Come on," he muttered, turning onto his side. "Let's get some sleep. She'll be fine as long as she takes her pills."
Lyn didn't respond in words. Instead, she moved closer to him, the space between them fading until there was none left.
The chamber fell into a heavy calm. Their breathing slowly softened, finding the same rhythm in the dark, until sleep finally pulled them under.
---
