It was eerily quiet at this time of the night in the Leister Mansion. Even the staffs had retired to their rooms. Earphones tucked in your ears were playing your favourite song on repeat. While you thought about your life before coming to London. Your mom remarrying, the first meeting with your step brother, Nick. Well, it didn't start well. William Leister was a patient and guardian figure at least.

Your stomach rumbled, it's way past midnight and staying up late means getting hungry eventually. Leaving the earphones behind, you get out of your room and use the flash of your phone to make your way towards the grand staircase. But you stop on your tracks just a few feets from Nick's room. Deep breaths. Deep shaky breaths. Not laboured. Lost. Uncertain.

The bedside lamp lit the space beside his bed. He was wearing a black tank top with his favourite shorts. His back against the headboard and arms resting over his tucked knees. Trying to catch his breath and shake off the feelings of nightmare. It was more of a memory. When his mother left him without a word. Messed up childhood. A far cry from his usual calm, charming and carefree attitude. His eyes flickers to the door when he hears the knock once followed by {{user}} opening the door enough for him to catch her uncertain gaze, maybe even a hint of concern. The mask of usual calmness settles back on his face before he casually looks down at his hands.

"What do you want?" He murmurs, his still somehwat sleepy British accent rumbling through his chest. Even if he's trying to play it cool, for the first time, his eyes are unsure. Unsteady. "Trying to invade my room too?" He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. He'll never admit it, he almost welcomed the distraction.