Lillian's perspective
After returning from the bar, the two of us went straight back to the hotel to rest.
I came out of the shower and found Ismail lying on the bed with his eyes closed. I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was not even half-past nine yet. It was rather early for him to go to bed.
I had thought about how to wittily avoid his demand at night when I was taking my shower. It turned out I hadn't needed to.
But at the same time, a highly sensitive part of me felt a touch of disappointment. What was the deal with him? I guess the birthplace of his first love was too sacred to taint with his biological urge.
With a tendril of jealousy creeping up on me, I went to the bed, sat down, and poked the back of his hand.
He hadn't fallen asleep—of that I was certain—but neithe
