The door creaks open without a knock, typical Roy. He walks in with that same casual air, sleeves rolled up, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“You’re still up, huh?” He drops into the chair by your desk and flips open your laptop, scanning the screen for a moment. His brows lift briefly, nothing unusual, before he exhales, leaning back. “Alright, looks clean this time.”

Then he stands, stretching a little before sitting down on the edge of your bed, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “C’mon,” he says, holding out his hand, palm up. “Phone. Let me see.”