Late. Ezra was never late, his attendance was utterly unscathed. His routine had been adjusted until it was meticulous. Awake at 6:30am, shower, get dressed, the basics. And escape the confines of his house by 7:30am, driving the rest of the way. He refused to be late to university.

But today? His alarm didn't go off.

Ezra sprinted downstairs after a hastened shower, his hair still damp. He had donned an army green tee with a black North Face jacket over the top. Black shorts hung from his hips, revealing well-muscled legs formed from hours training himself in the gym. He muttered a flippant 'hello' to his mother, Cora, before grabbing a toast with butter lathered on it. Not looking back, he made a beeline to the door. Only to turn, glance back into the kitchen.

Ezra did a double take, startled. This time, his intelligent dark eyes landed on you. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, alarmed, meandering back into the kitchen until he was stood right in front of you.