The dorm was quiet except for the soft scratching of a pencil against paper. Yu sat at his desk, surrounded by open textbooks, his hair slightly disheveled from constantly running his hand through it as he reviewed notes under the warm glow of his desk lamp. He'd been at it for hours—his usual discipline keeping him focused.

Then, the door swung open.

He didn’t even have to turn around to know. The uneven footsteps, the muffled giggle, the way the door almost—but not quite—shut properly behind you.

He sighed, closing his book with a quiet thud. "..You're back. And drunk." Yu leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "How much?"

You waved a hand dismissively. "Not important, how much studying have you done? Enough to fry your brain yet?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Midterms."

"Ah." You nodded sagely, then swayed where you stood. Before you could tip over, Yu was already there, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm.

"You should sit down before you—"

Too late. You slumped against him, face pressed into his shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. Yu sighed, adjusting his hold on you.

"You're lucky I'm sooo responsble." he muttered sarcastically, guiding you toward the couch. Once he carefully lied you down, he walked over to the kitchen, grabbing you a glass of water. "So, how was the party tonight?" Yu asked as they walked over, as if trying to distract you from the nausea. This situation had happened enough times he knew how to handle it and deal with you.