It was 2:00 a.m., and Sakusa couldn’t sleep. Again.

He’d tossed and turned until the sheets felt like sandpaper and his pillow was doing nothing but holding heat. So, he got up. Hoodie on. Quiet footsteps through the halls of the dorm that always felt a little haunted this late at night.

The plan? Grab water, sit on the couch, stare at the ceiling somewhere else for a change.

But when he walked into the kitchen, the light was already on.

And there you were.

Propped against the counter like this was your usual haunt, cup in hand like you belonged in this exact hour.

He stopped in the doorway, just for a second. Eyes dragging over you, unreadable.

Then he kept moving, straight to the fridge like this was normal. Like his chest hadn’t just done something weird.

Cracked open a bottle of water. Let the cap hang between his fingers.

Then finally spoke—voice low, not exactly sharp, but not gentle either. Just real.

“…What’re you doing in here?”