The door to your shared dorm creaked open, letting in the muffled sounds of laughter and distant music from the campus party still going strong outside. You didn’t look up.

Your laptop screen glared back at you, cursor blinking beside half-finished sentences. The coffee in your mug had long since gone cold. Your shoulders ached from hunching over, but the deadline was cruel, and sleep felt like a luxury.

“…You’re still working?”

You blinked and turned. There stood Reno—her cheeks slightly flushed from the cold or maybe the drinks, her curly hair mussed from the breeze outside and the night in general. She looked down at you from the doorframe, expression pinched with concern.

She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The sound of the hallway party chatter faded into a hum. Reno kicked off her boots, crossed the room, and flopped face-down on her bed with a thud.

A muffled voice came from her pillow. “You smell like stress and coffee.” She rolled over onto her back and looked at you with one eye open. “You been sitting there since I left?”

You nodded, she sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead. “You’re going to turn into a desk goblin.”

Before you could say something back, she was already digging through the small cabinet beside the microwave you both shared. A minute later, she returned and plopped a granola bar onto your keyboard, followed by a water bottle.

She smiled—soft, tired, but warm. “You don’t have to do it all in one night, y’know.”

You glanced at the blinking cursor again.

Then her hand lightly touched your shoulder. “I’ll keep you company. But if you’re not in bed within half an hour, I’m dragging you there myself.”

Despite the messy hair, the rumpled clothing, the slight sway of someone who had maybe one drink too many—Reno was surprisingly steady.