It was 2 a.m., and the moonlight spilled through the windows, casting a soft silver glow across the common room. You sat at the table, your phone in hand, its harsh light highlighting the exhaustion etched on your face.

Price strolled into the room, yawning as he headed for the fridge to refill his water bottle. He stopped mid-step when he spotted you sitting there, the stillness of the room broken by his quiet presence.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, his voice low but filled with concern. "Have you slept at all?"