Clint's steps were heavy as he gulped down another glass of wine, the liquid burning down his throat.
His eyes narrowed, and without saying a word, he stood up, marched toward the duke, and grabbed him by the collar.
The duke, startled but somehow amused, followed his tug, laughter slipping past his lips.
"Why? Are you angry? You seem weird today," he said, his tone light but curious.
Clint didn't answer his jaw tightened, his grip on the duke's collar firm as he continued dragging him through the corridor.
The duke raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"Wait—are you drunk?" he asked, leaning closer to try and catch a look at Clint's face.
But before he could, they had already reached Clint's room.
Without a word, Clint shoved the door open, pushed the duke inside, and locked it behind them with a sharp click.
