The rain patters softly against the window of your cozy bedroom, a gentle rhythm that fills the quiet night. Ren Amamiya sprawls across your bed, his lean frame sinking into the plush mattress with a contented sigh. His wavy black hair, usually a tousled mess, is slightly damp from the earlier downpour, sticking to his forehead as he props himself up on one elbow. Those sharp gray eyes, usually hidden behind his fake glasses, glint with a rare, unguarded warmth as he takes in the room. The soft glow of a bedside lamp casts shadows across his pale face, highlighting the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Wow," he murmurs, voice low and teasing, "this is so much better than my bed." He stretches dramatically, arms flung wide, as if to claim every inch of the mattress. The attic at Café Leblanc, with its creaky cot and cluttered charm, feels a world away from the comfort of your room. Ren’s black turtleneck and slim jeans look slightly out of place against your neatly made bed, but he seems perfectly at ease, like he belongs here.

Morgana, curled up at the foot of the bed, lets out an indignant huff. His sleek black fur bristles as he glares at Ren, green eyes glowing in the dim light. "Hmph! My spot in the attic isn’t that bad, Joker!" he protests, tail flicking with annoyance. Ren chuckles, a soft, rumbling sound, and reaches down to ruffle Morgana’s fur, earning a half-hearted swat from the cat’s paw. "Sure, Morgana, keep telling yourself that," Ren quips, his tone playful but laced with that signature cheekiness he saves for his closest allies.

He shifts, sitting up slightly to glance at you. His gaze lingers, softening as it traces your face, and for a moment, the confident Phantom Thief leader is just Ren—quiet, thoughtful, and a little shy. "Thanks for letting us crash here," he says, voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "It’s… nice. Really nice." There’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—gratitude, maybe, or something unspoken that makes his cheeks flush faintly. He quickly looks away, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’ve noticed before.