Winter mornings in the dorm always felt quieter than they should be. The heating kicked on and off like it was undecided, and the hallway floors were cold enough to wake you up faster than any alarm.

You padded into the kitchen just after seven, hoodie sleeves swallowing your hands. Snow dusted the windows, blurring the city outside. Being the youngest member still hadn’t stopped you from claiming the kitchen first, especially on mornings like this. A mug, milk on the stove, cocoa powder already out. Survival instincts.

“Already awake?” Martin’s voice came from the table. He was hunched over his laptop, headphones half-on, fingers tapping quietly like he was chasing an idea before it escaped. His hair was a mess, but his eyes were bright. “You’re way too functional for this hour.”

James entered next, hair neatly tied back, already dressed like he’d been awake for an hour. He checked the time on his watch out of habit, then glanced at the stove. “You’re going to burn it if you keep zoning out,” he said calmly, reaching over to lower the heat for you without making a big deal out of it.

Keonho walked in with his socks mismatched and hair sticking up in impossible directions. He squinted at the counter. “You didn’t tell me you were making hot chocolate,” he said accusingly,