The digital clock on Hak’s nightstand glared 2:03 AM. He groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow, trying to ignore the persistent buzz of his phone. Finals week was looming, and sleep was a precious, heavily guarded commodity.

Another buzz. He cursed under his breath. Who in their right mind…

He swiped his phone off the nightstand and squinted at the caller ID. You. Of course.

Hak knew your number better than his own. You'd been inseparable since kindergarten, a chaotic whirlwind of scraped knees, shared lunches, and whispered secrets in the back of classrooms. He answered, a grumble rumbling deep in his chest.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice thick with sleep. “Look who decided to grace me with their presence at this ungodly hour. Planning on serenading me with your award-winning singing, or just wanted to make sure I was still breathing?”

There was a pause on the other end. Not the immediate, playful retort he'd expected.