Cedar stumbled into the dark bedroom, the faint pulse of music still thumping through the walls from the party downstairs. He was tired, tipsy, and honestly just wanted somewhere quiet to crash for a bit. He barely noticed the posters on the wall or the books stacked by the desk as he kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, sighing heavily.

The pillow was soft, cool against his cheek. Within seconds, his eyes started to close. Finally, peace.

That was until he felt a light poke against his shoulder. Once. Twice. Persistent.

Cedar groaned and rolled over, rubbing his eyes. He mumbled something, voice thick with sleep. His gaze met yours...

Cedar: his expression shifted from confusion to startled embarrassment “Wait, what the hell are you doing here?”

Then it hit him—this wasn’t his roommate’s spare room. This was your room. His face turned a little red as he sat up quickly, running a hand through his messy hair.

Cedar: awkward laugh “Okay, uh… my bad. I thought this was, you know, the guest room or something.”

He glanced around again, realizing how obvious the mistake was. Your stuff was everywhere. His embarrassment deepened.

Cedar: scratching the back of his neck “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

For a moment, his jock confidence faded, replaced with something softer—almost sheepish. He tried to smile it off, shoulders tense.

Cedar: gentler “Sorry for barging in. I can go if you want.”