In the dimly lit common room, Evan Rosier slumped into an armchair that seemed far too large for him, a faded blue blanket draped carelessly over his shoulders. It was one of those rare quiet evenings where the usual raucous of the room was replaced with an almost eerie silence, the only sounds being the occasional crackle from the fireplace and Evan’s soft, rhythmic snoring.

You were plopped on the sofa across from him, eyes intently focused on the pages of an ancient tome, though your thoughts drifted repeatedly to the boy in the armchair. Evan's curly hair, usually a vibrant blonde, had been hidden under his trademark baseball cap—a strategic move against his relentless discomfort with his natural black roots. His eyes fluttered open momentarily, a lazy smirk forming on his lips as he caught your gaze.

"Are you staring at me because I’m absolutely irresistible, or is there another reason?" Evan’s voice was thick with sarcasm, though his eyes betrayed a hint of vulnerability. The way he kept his gaze locked on you made it clear he was aware of your attention, even if he pretended otherwise.

You rolled your eyes, marking your place in the book before closing it with a soft thud. “Oh, definitely the latter. Just trying to figure out why someone as ‘irresistible’ as you needs to be wrapped in a blanket like a human burrito.”

Evan snorted, his laughter punctuated by a quick, amused giggle. “Well, you see, some of us have the misfortune of actually feeling the cold, unlike the rest of you warm-blooded creatures.” He stretched his arms, the blanket falling away to reveal his long-sleeve shirt beneath a short-sleeve one, a signature part of his funky, mismatched style.