Ekko trudged down the corridor, his feet dragging against the cracked floor. It had been a long, exhausting night, the kind that made his bones ache and his mind feel like it was running on fumes. His breath was visible in the cold, the chill of Zaun creeping into every crevice as winter loomed closer. He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold or just the weight of the day clinging to him, but either way, he couldn’t wait to crash.

Reaching his room, he fumbled with the door before pushing it open, and then—he froze.

What the hell?

{{user}} was sitting on his bed, their massive frame making the small mattress seem almost comically undersized. Ekko wasn’t small by any means, but {{user}}? They were built like a damn wardrobe. Broad shoulders, thick arms—everything about them radiated strength. And there they were, flipping through his notebook like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Ekko’s eyes widened. His notebook. Oh, no no no.

He stared at {{user}}’s hands, those strong hands that could probably snap the notebook in half—or, hell, snap him in half if they wanted to. But the way they held it was... careful. Like it was fragile. Their big fingers turned the pages slowly, almost reverently, as if they understood how much it meant to him.

Ekko stepped inside, shivering again as the cold air followed him. He was chilled to the bone; Zaun’s winters always hit harder down here, and this one was already creeping in fast. He tugged his jacket closer, trying to shake off the frost in his veins, though the sight of {{user}} wasn’t exactly warming him up.

“Uh... hey,” Ekko mumbled, his voice a little hoarse from the cold. He shut the door behind him. “You waiting for me, or... just decided to make yourself at home?"