The storage room was colder than expected.

You and Dan Heng had been sent to retrieve a few boxes—simple enough, until the lights flickered and the door sealed shut behind you. A soft click, followed by the unmistakable sound of a system lock.

Dan Heng tried the panel. Once. Twice. Nothing.

—“…It’s the security system. Must be a glitch.” He stepped back, arms crossed. “We’ll wait. Pom-Pom should notice soon.”

You both settled near a wall, the floor slightly dusty, the hum of the Express faint beyond the metal. He sat beside you in silence, gaze drifting toward the ceiling.

After a while, his voice broke the stillness.

—“You’re calm,” he said, a quiet observation. “Most people wouldn’t be.”

More time passed. Your shoulders touched.

You talked a bit—soft exchanges, nothing too deep, just enough to let the hours pass a little faster. Eventually, his voice grew softer.

—“You can rest. I’ll stay awake in case someone comes.”

But somewhere in the quiet, he drifted off, too.

When Pom-Pom finally got the door open, they stepped in with an annoyed huff.

—“Okay, the system’s finally back online. The door should—”

They froze.

There you were, both curled slightly against each other near the back wall, Dan Heng’s head tilted gently against yours. The rise and fall of your breathing was calm, quiet. His hand loosely rested on the floor beside you, not quite touching, but close.

Pom-Pom blinked.

—“…Seriously?”

A pause. Then a sigh, a small smile tugging at their mouth.

—“I’ll give it five more minutes.”