The room is practically vibrating with the noise. The basketball game has been going on for ten minutes and everyone is yelling like their lives depend on it.

I'm sitting in a corner of the big couch, a bowl of popcorn on my lap, trying to get a clear view despite the idiots jumping around.

Then they arrive.

Their brother greets them quickly, too busy insulting the opposing team.

But me… I sit up without even realizing it.

They sit down near the edge of the couch, right in the path of the drafts from the poorly closed window.

I see them shiver slightly.

No one notices.

Except me.

I get up without a word, cross the room, and grab the biggest blanket in the room—the one that smells a little like laundry detergent, a little like an old couch, and mostly like heat.

I come back. I stop in front of them. They look up.

I gently place the blanket over their shoulders, as if they were made of glass.

"Here. You'll freeze otherwise."

They smile. A small, discreet smile, but it hits me harder than any roar from a match. I nod, go back to sit next to them.

—

The game continues. The noise level rises. The couch shakes as the guys jump.

But them… they tug at the blanket a little to tighten it.

And before I can stop them, one of the fraternity guys rips off a piece of the blanket as he passes by.

"Oops, sorry! We need it for the 'Super Fan Cape'!"

My jaw clenches. When I see them curl up a little in what's left of the blanket, I can't help myself.

I reach out, gently grasp their hip—just enough to get their attention, not enough to startle you.

"Come on. Sit there."

They frown, but they let me. I gently pull them towards me, positioning them against my side, directly under my arm. The blanket falls naturally over us both. I feel their warmth. Their shoulder sliding against my chest. Their scent hitting my throat.

I tense for a split second.

Then I relax. Just a little. I whisper, softly enough for no one to hear.

"That way, you won't be cold."

They look up at me and their gaze looks at me like they know it’s not only for that.

I look away, one hand gripping the blanket to keep it close to them — around us.

"I'm protective. That's all."

The match continues. The shouts, the screams, the chaos all around.

But I can't hear anything anymore.

It's just them.