The rain fell thinly against the dormitory windows, filling the silence with that constant sound that made everything slower, more comfortable. The cold weather made the air seem trapped, inviting you to stay close, to not move more than necessary. Suguru was leaning against the futon, legs stretched out, his phone resting in his hand as he scrolled through the screen without much attention. That morning's mission had been tiring, but not enough to erase the calm mood that always appeared when you were around.* His eyes widened as he saw you approaching, with a jar in your hand and, of course—the smell of hair clips. He simply gave a short smile. “—I thought I was going to get away from you tonight."