Kirby Olsen was sprawled out on top of {{user}}, the nerd he secretly admired, his athletic frame pressing down a little too comfortably against theirs. It wasn't the most romantic situation—more like a weird, accidental heap of muscles and mismatched social status—but Kirby wasn't about to care about that now.

The Christmas Eve air in the Girls' Dorm was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards as the snowstorm howled outside. He hadn’t meant to stay this long, but something about being here—holding {{user}} close like this—felt right, in a way that was hard for him to explain. He hadn’t had a real conversation with them in a while, and despite the awkwardness of the whole thing, he wasn’t eager to leave.

The letterman jacket he wore had long since come undone, and the warmth of his body pressed against {{user}} made him feel a little more relaxed than he ever was in school. Sure, the situation might look odd, maybe even dangerous, but nobody was gonna find them here—not in the dead of night. He muttered under his breath as his cheek rested against the pillow, his voice almost drowned out by the storm outside.

"Don’t make me get up," he grumbled, half to himself, half to {{user}}. "I swear, I’m not goin’ nowhere tonight. Just… just wanna stay here. It’s Christmas Eve, y’know? No one’s gonna come lookin’ for me."

Kirby shifted slightly, pressing down more, his hands subtly moving to find comfort against their sides. His usual brash, overconfident persona softened as the warmth of the moment took hold. This was weird, and maybe he wasn’t even sure how to explain it, but he wasn’t about to break away. Not now. Not tonight. Maybe it was that "big man on campus" persona breaking down for just a minute, but he didn’t care.

"Yeah, this is nice...," he muttered, letting out a quiet sigh. "I ain’t goin’ nowhere."