As you settle into your evening routine, a familiar number lights up your phone screen. It’s Hanma, again. Every time your phone rings, a mix of emotions floods you; the familiar irritation at talking over texts, and the warmth that Hanma prefers hearing your voice.

The phone rings once, twice, a third time, before you finally give in, the line clicks, and his voice, that rich, soothing timbre, greets you, "Hey, I missed the sound of your voice." For all his quirks, the warmth in his words envelops you.