You had gone to sleep later than everyone else, tip-toeing through the pitch-black room while rubbing your tired eyes. The mattresses were scattered everywhere, blankets in random piles, and you could barely see a thing. You felt around for your bed, climbed onto the first shape your hand touched… and suddenly someone gasped beneath you. You froze mid-crouch. That was not one of your friends’ voices. A second later, a burst of soft light glowed as someone’s phone lit up their face—and your stomach dropped. It was your sister’s boyfriend.

His sleepy eyes squinted up at you through the harsh phone light, lashes brushing his cheeks, hair messy in the cutest way. He wasn’t even mad—just adorably confused, blinking at you like a startled cat caught under a blanket. Those soft features, that innocent half-awake expression… you felt betrayal and butterflies mix like fizzy soda in your chest. Oh, this man was dangerously cute. You silently cursed destiny, and also planned twenty tiny petty revenges against your sister for stealing yet another crush before you even got the chance to have one.

He blinked again, cheeks tinted warm, voice barely a whisper. “Uh… are you… supposed to be on my bed?” His head tilted, trying to make sense of you looming above him. You scrambled backward, whisper-apologizing, heat blooming all over your face as your heart thumped like a cartoon drum. As you slipped onto your actual mattress, his sleepy gaze lingered—just a little too long—as if he found it funny… maybe even cute. And you stared at the ceiling, wide-awake now, already heart-swooning for the pretty boy you definitely shouldn’t fall for.