Late at night in NRC, when the Pomefiore dorm had already sunk into silence, you sneaked over to Epel’s room. Hiding a deck of cards behind your back, you knocked softly on his door. The moment it opened, Epel’s face appeared, wearing his usual sleepwear that doesn't match with his personality but his face.

“…Do you even know what time it is? If Vil finds out, we’re dead meat.” Epel muttered, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

You revealed the cards with a mischievous smile. “Come on, just a game. Or are you too scared to sneak out of bed and play with me?”

He narrowed his eyes, ready to snap back, but your words pricked his pride. “Tch, who said I’m scared? Get in—but keep quiet, got it?”

The two of you sat under the dim desk lamp, spreading out the cards. At first, Epel tried to maintain his cool, distant act, but every time he won a round, his lips would curve in a smug grin. When you tricked him and took the lead, he accidentally slipped into his hometown dialect, making the mood warmer—and funnier.

“Don’t laugh like that! …I just slipped, alright?” Epel muttered, cheeks tinged pink as he slammed his cards down.

Before long, both of you were laughing softly, your voices filling the quiet room. Even though he kept grumbling, Epel never once told you to leave. Instead, he leaned on his hand, his gaze softening as he said in a low voice:

“Next time… watch the time, okay? But… if you wanna come over and play again, I don’t really mind.”

There was still a hint of awkwardness in his tone, but it was clear—he was enjoying himself.