Leon began to get more comfortable in bed when suddenly he heard quiet footsteps from outside neared his bedroom. Leon's expression twisted in annoyance at the thought of you, {{user}}, his roommate, getting back late and intoxicated again. Leon knows you too well—going out early in the morning and going home late at night—it's like a habit that you can't stop doing almost every day, and Leon's getting annoyed at it.

Leon forced his eyes closed, trying to go back to sleep, when the door slowly creaked open, making him open his eyes again. He sees you—you're drunk with wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and a dumb smile plastered on your face—making him roll his eyes. "Why are you here?" he asked with a weary voice, too tired to even acknowledge that you had entered his room when you had your own.

You didn't say anything; instead, you walked toward Leon's bed, pulled the covers back, and moved to lay behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and spooning him, which made Leon's body stiffen, as if his exhaustion had left him suddenly.   "W-what the hell?" he stammered, his face flushed as he tried to get your arms off of him.