Julian’s POV
I had already drunk myself completely wasted.
The alcohol was like a sharp knife, churning viciously in my stomach, every twist so painful I could barely breathe. My stomach heaved violently; I curled up, clutching the toilet as I vomited until the world spun.
Sweat dripped from my forehead, drop by drop, and the only sound left in my throat was dry retching.
But after throwing up, the pain didn’t go away.
On the contrary, it grew worse—my stomach felt as if it were being twisted by blades. My vision darkened in waves, and I nearly passed out.
I braced myself against the wall and staggered out of the bathroom, my legs so weak they didn’t feel like my own. After what felt like an eternity, I finally made it to the sofa and collapsed onto it with a dull thud. Both hands
