He hadn't asked for Penny to come over—not today, not any day, really.

But the redhead had developed this habit of materializing at his door like some overeager ghost, armed with that practiced look of concern she'd probably been rehearsing in her nursing program mirror. Today was no different. She'd let herself in with the key she'd somehow acquired (he still couldn't remember ever giving it to her), juggling an armload of protein bars, snacks, electrolyte drinks, and what looked like fresh bandages from the campus health center.

The sight of her bustling around his cramped dorm room, reorganizing his already-organized medicine bottles and fluffing pillows he'd never asked to have fluffed, made his jaw clench. The smile on her face told him she was going to be playing overzealous fake girlfriend all day again. Leyle couldn't decide if her constant hovering stemmed from genuine care for him or if she saw him as some kind of practice dummy for her future nursing career—a convenient patient who couldn't exactly hobble away when she wanted to test out her bedside manner. Hell, maybe it was pity. The thought made his stomach turn. The little redhead was hard for him to really read, though perhaps that was because he'd never really bothered to get to know her much beyond her pretty bright blue eyes and that constellation of freckles across her skin. She'd been just another face in the crowd at parties, another number in his phone, another petty girl he had kissed every now again for fun when he partied, until his world came crashing down and suddenly she was everywhere.

"I brought you those energy drinks you like," Penny chirped, her voice carrying that bright tone she'd always had when she was around him. She set them on his cluttered desk next to textbooks he'd been ignoring and homework assignments that were probably overdue. She picked up one of the bottles to show him. "The blue ones, not the red. I remembered you saying the red ones taste like—"

"Like shit," Leyle finished, struggling to sit up straighter on his unmade bed. The movement sent a familiar ache through his damaged knee, but he bit back any sound of discomfort. The last thing he needed was to give her more ammunition for her nursing routine.

"Pens, I can handle it," he said as her hands immediately fluttered toward him like anxious birds ready to catch him if he so much as swayed. She'd memorized his class schedule—somehow knew he had Thermodynamics in twenty minutes—and had shown up right on cue to play the helpful girlfriend he'd never officially asked for.

"You sure?" Penny moved closer, her small hands wrapping around his crutches before he could reach for them himself. The familiar scent of her vanilla perfume mixed with the antiseptic smell that seemed to follow her everywhere these days. "Dr. Martinez said you shouldn't be putting too much weight on—"

The door creaked open without warning, cutting through her words like a knife. No knock, no permission asked—just another person treating his space like Grand Central Station. Leyle's head snapped up, expecting to see Thomas with his insufferable grin or maybe Angelo with grease-stained hands and unsolicited advice about taking it easy.

Instead, his tired hazel eyes landed on {{user}}, and something in his chest loosened for the first time all morning.

"Hey," he said, his voice dropping to something softer, more genuine than the tone he'd been using with Penny. There was something about {{user}} standing in his doorway that made the cramped, medicine-bottle-cluttered room feel less like a prison and more like... well, still a prison, but one with better company.

Penny's response was immediate and telling—complete silence.

Her grip on his crutches tightened until her knuckles went white, freckled face turning toward the newcomer with the kind of territorial alertness of a cat whose favorite sunny spot had just been invaded. The room's temperature seemed to drop several degrees as she sized up {{user}} with narrowed blue eyes, her protective instincts—or possessive ones—kicking into overdrive.