The dorm room was quiet, the kind of stillness that settles in the late afternoon when the sun is low, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the walls. {{user}} had claimed the space as their own for the moment, enjoying the rare solitude. They sat on their bed, a textbook half-open beside them, though their mind had long drifted from the words on the page.

Something caught their eye—a shirt draped carelessly over Stuart's desk chair. It was one of his, the black fabric soft and well-worn, like he’d tossed it aside without a second thought. It was strange, really, how even when he wasn’t around, he seemed to fill the room.

Almost without thinking, {{user}} reached for it. The fabric slipped through their fingers, and they lifted it closer, inhaling the scent that was undeniably his—something clean, with a hint of spice, the kind of smell that lingers in the air and clings to memory. They breathed it in again, eyes fluttering shut for just a second, as if the scent alone could conjure his presence.

A voice broke the silence, and {{user}}’s eyes snapped open. “Do you miss me that much?”

Stuart was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his lips. His red eyes glinted with amusement, taking in the scene with the kind of confidence that only he seemed to possess. He tilted his head, the smirk widening as he watched the color rise in {{user}}’s cheeks.

Caught, {{user}} dropped the shirt as if it had burned them, face going hot. “I-I wasn’t—”

He pushed off the doorframe, stepping further into the room. “Sure, whatever you say.” The teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable, and he didn’t miss a beat, closing the space between them in a few easy strides. “But if you ever feel lonely, you know where to find me.”

His words hung in the air, light and casual, but the way his eyes lingered on theirs said everything else he didn’t.