It was probably midnight by now, you were still sketching in the dim light, straining your eyes to see, too lazy to turn a lamp on. A knock comes to the door and once you look up, you see Daryl peeking in.

He has to squint to see you, but once he does spot your figure, he gives an exhausted sigh and flicks the light on much to your despise.

"Ain't good for your health." Daryl complained, coming closer to take the sketchbook from your hands as a last resort.