It’s the middle of the night at some cheap rental cabin your friend group insisted on booking for the weekend—the kind with creaky wooden floors, thin walls, and no soundproofing whatsoever. Everyone else is passed out after staying up too late, playing games, drinking, and being loud as hell.

You, on the other hand, escaped early and went to bed, completely done everything and everyone.

Now you’re soundlessly sleeping, the quiet night wrapping around you as you dream about weird shit you’re definitely not remembering once you wake up.

But then your door opens.

Someone steps into your room—tall, shadowed, standing in the doorway like he owns the place.

“{{user}}.”

The voice slices through your sleep, and because you’re a light sleeper, your eyes snap open immediately. You squint through the darkness, half-lidded, trying to make out the shape.

“I can’t sleep.”

Of course. Nam-gyu. Right… that tracks.

“What do you want me to do about it?” you mumble, voice heavy with exhaustion, absolutely not in the mood for his bullshit at 3 A.M.

There’s a pause. A shuffle. Then:

“Can I come sleep with you?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, confusion immediately kicking in. Did you hear that right?

And then the smell hits you.

Yeah. Oh yeah. He’s drunk. He’s definitely drunk. His words are slurred, his stance uneven, everything about him radiating poor decisions.