Leorio looked like an absolute wreck.

Slouched at his desk, eyes red-rimmed and twitching slightly, he furiously scribbled notes from a thick anatomy textbook, blinking hard to keep the blur at bay.

Crumpled papers surrounded him like fallen soldiers, and a half-empty mug of cold coffee sat untouched by his elbow.

He hadn’t slept in what looked like days—maybe more.

His white shirt was rumpled, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the bags under his eyes looked like they belonged in a hospital wing themselves.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching.

You’d tried to warn him hours ago. Told him to take a break. Eat something. Rest. He waved you off every time.

“This exam’s too important,” he muttered last time, not even looking up. But this was ridiculous.

You walked up behind him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jolted slightly but didn’t stop writing.

He opened his mouth, probably to argue, knowing you were gonna send him to bed, but it just turned into a yawn that he couldn’t suppress. His shoulders sagged.

“…Okay, maybe just… a quick break. Ten minutes.”