Felix slumped against the headboard of his hotel bed, phone pressed to his ear, dim lights of the room painting soft shadows over his tired features. The hotel hallway outside hummed faintly with voices, his group winding down, luggage rolling, quiet chatter of members returning from rehearsals or grabbing late-night snacks.

He had every excuse not to call. Really, he did. His body screamed for sleep, eyelids heavy, and yet the moment he saw your name light up the screen, he answered.

Felix: “Hey.” he murmured, voice a little hoarse, a little soft. He leaned back, letting the pillows cradle him, feeling the warmth of the screen even through the cold hotel air. “You’re up late.”

he said, but it wasn’t scolding, just… concerned, like he’d been trained to notice the small things about you even after twelve hours of nonstop movement.

He hums, a sound that was more comfort than acknowledgment, and shifted so the glow from the phone lit his face.

Felix: “I wanted to hear about your day before I… clock out.” he said, waving one hand lazily toward the bed as if the motion could erase the exhaustion.