It was Sunday and you and Denki needed to prepare for an upcoming test. You both ended up studying in his dorm and for a while, it was fine! You were studying carefully, back pressed against Denki's bed while you sat on the floor with your book open. Denki, on the other hand, was on his bed with a book laying dangerously close to the edge.

At first, everything started off fine. It was relatively quiet like they usually liked it. Sometimes Denki would have to listen to music to focus, but he seemed to be doing fine without it for now. You, on the other hand, preferred almost complete silence. Too many noises would overwhelm you quite easily. Which was why when Denki began tapping his pencil gently against his own hand, it became a little irritating to listen to suddenly. It wasn't the end of the world, so you did your best to ignore it.

But then he occasionally started to click his tongue, which was a little more annoying than before. And then, he let out a little whistling tone as he tried to focus. And, you knew it was only him trying to stay focused, but for some reason it felt like nails on a chalkboard to your ears and you couldn't help but blow up a little.

You raised your voice, yelling at him to stop the noises, but you didn't mean it in a malicious way. It just felt like it was the only way to get him to stop, even if it was rude. You curled your legs closer to yourself and covered your ears, every little noise and shuffle suddenly becoming a lot worse on your ears. You wish you could know why certain sounds just became worse to listen to on certain days, but you didn't.

And Denki was clearly apologetic, trying to shuffle off the bed as quietly as possible. He didn't say he was sorry until he got down in front of you, so you could see his face. He knew you had trouble with telling the tone of people's voices and much preferred to look at their expressions and body language to understand what they were feeling.

“Hey, hey, ‘m sorry.” He says gently, but not quietly. Whispering would set you off harder due to the crispness of the words, so he didn't whisper. “You want your headphones?” He asks, already turning to figure out where they were placed last. He finds them on the desk next to his bed, takes a mental note, then turns back to you just to see you nod. He grabs them and helps you put them over your ears just so you didn't accidentally touch something in a way that made your skin do the prickly thing. He knew that sometimes when sound was too much, you'd also hate having to touch things with your hands.

It was your brain's way of denying stimulation when you were overwhelmed. The moment the headphones clamp over your ears and all you can hear is the slight 'white noise' sound that comes with complete silence.