When Ang and Quintina returned to the military camp, it was already late at night.
Quintina had fallen deeply asleep in Ang's arms, still not fully sober, her body resting lightly against his chest.
As Ang walked, he gently adjusted her position, trying to make her more comfortable.
Quintina's head tilted against his shoulder, her long hair slightly undone, her faint breathing sounding beside Ang's ear.
He took every step with exceptional care, though complicated emotions inevitably stirred within him.
At last, he carefully laid her on the bed, and the soft mattress instantly swallowed her body.
Before he could rise and leave, Quintina suddenly grabbed his hand. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as she murmured, "Don't go..."
Her voice carried lingering drunkenness and a rare hint of vulnerability.
Ang gently tried to pull his hand away, but Quintina's grip was unusually firm, as though she did not want him to leave.
Helpless, Ang could only sigh softly, sit at the bedside, and adjust his posture.
In the end, he carefully lay down beside her bed and closed his eyes, remaining there until the morning light shone into the tent the next day.
In the morning, sunlight streamed into the room through gaps in the curtains. Ang opened his eyes and, through blurred vision, met Quintina's gaze, which was almost pressed against his face.
Her eyes were clear and direct, carrying a hint of playfulness and curiosity. "You're awake?"
Ang stretched, his body cracking audibly. His gaze was still a little unfocused. "Yeah. You got drunk last night and fell asleep during the ball. I carried you back."
Quintina stuck out her tongue and revealed a mischievous smile. "Didn't you do anything to me?"
Ang casually shook his head. "I wouldn't take advantage of someone."
Quintina raised an eyebrow, clearly not