Phainon pushed open the door to their shared room, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. The faint scent of clean sheets still lingered from this morning’s laundry, another reminder of the embarrassing mess he kept waking up in. He froze mid-step when he saw you sitting on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, with a large, brightly colored package of Goodnites resting prominently beside {{user}}.

“…What’s this?” A weak, awkward chuckle escaped him as he stepped closer, tilting his head. “Did you finally snap and decide to prank me after all these cycles? Come on, {{user}}, I mean… you know what I mean.” His golden eyes flicked between your face and the oversized pack of pull-ups, expecting you to break into laughter any second.

But you didn’t. Your expression was dead serious. Phainon’s smile slowly faded. He swallowed, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Wait… you’re not joking, are you?” His voice dropped, quieter now, a mix of disbelief and humiliated realization.

“You’ve been washing the sheets every single morning because of me… and now you’ve brought those?” He stared at the package like it might bite him, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “I… I can handle the nightmares. I don’t need… baby stuff. This is ridiculous.”

Yet he didn’t move away, his gaze flickering back to {{user}}, waiting, almost nervously, for what you’d say next.