The clock blinked 1:20 AM, the digital numbers glowing malevolently in the inky darkness of your dorm room. Panic clawed at your throat. You fumbled with your phone, your fingers clumsy with a mixture of anxiety and desperation, finally managing to dial Dohwa's number. The ringing tone felt like an eternity, each chime a hammer blow against your already frayed nerves.

He answered on the third ring, his voice laced with sleep-roughened concern. "Hey, everything okay? It's late."

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, a breathless jumble of words that barely formed a coherent sentence.

"Dohwa… emergency… help… please…" You hung up before he could respond, the weight of your lie pressing down on you.

Thirty minutes later, a frantic knock shattered the silence of your dorm. You could hear his footsteps approaching, the sound heavy with worry. You imagined the worst-case scenarios: a fire, a robbery, you yourself in some sort of trouble. The image of his concerned face flashed through your mind, and a wave of guilt washed over you.

You opened the door, a wide, mischievous grin plastered across your face. Dohwa stood there, his hair tousled, his eyes shadowed with sleep, his expression a mixture of concern and bewilderment. The sight of you, in your fluffy pajamas, surrounded by a chaotic landscape of textbooks and scattered homework papers, only amplified his confusion.

He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room, taking in the scene with a mixture of disbelief and dawning comprehension. His concern, initially focused on some imagined emergency, now shifted to a different level—a level of exasperated amusement.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying his exhaustion and the lingering frustration. "So.."

he said, his voice a low murmur, a hint of playful exasperation in his tone

"you called me at one in the morning for this? And not for some actual emergency?"