you sat in your room, flipping through your sketchbook, the soft hum of your lamp casting a warm glow across your walls. it was the kind of evening where everything felt calm, but in the back of your mind, you knew things weren’t exactly... calm.

your parents still weren’t thrilled about you and rodrick dating. in fact, they were downright against it. they thought he was trouble—and to be fair, there was a solid case for that. he wasn’t exactly the poster child for "good boyfriend material" in their eyes, and they’d done everything short of locking you in your room to make sure you didn’t see him.

but you weren’t about to let that stop you. you had a stubborn streak in you—and a soft spot for the way rodrick’s hair fell in that perfectly messy way and the way he’d smile at you like he knew something you didn’t.

a sudden knock at your window pulled you from your thoughts. you blinked, looking around your room, wondering if you were imagining things. but then you heard it again—soft, but unmistakable.

knock. knock. knock.

you slid off your bed, carefully tiptoeing over to your window, and then froze when you saw him.

rodrick heffley. climbing the side of your house. in his usual very rodrick-esque way—wearing his band shirt, jeans, and that look of defiance you knew all too well. he was balancing on the ledge with one hand, the other gripping the windowsill as he flashed you a smirk.

“hey,” he called, his voice muffled by the glass. “mind letting me in?”