You and Chan had been best friends for as long as you could remember, sharing everything and finding comfort in each other like no one else. It was 1 AM, and you were on FaceTime, a routine for nights when sleep wouldn’t come. He was at his desk, hair messy, leaning back in his chair while fiddling with a pen, the warm glow of his lamp softening his features. You were in bed, bundled in a hoodie with snacks in your lap, the light from your phone illuminating your face.

“Popcorn again?”

He teased with a chuckle, leaning closer to his screen.

“You and your late-night cravings.”