Hal shuffled in, backpack half unzipped, notes spilling out onto the floor. His hoodie was twisted, one sleeve slightly inside out, glasses perched crookedly on his nose. He collapsed onto the couch with a soft, almost pitiful groan, rubbing his shoulders like he’s been carrying the weight of a million textbooks.

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile too widely. “Whoa… Somebody’s dramatic today.” You teased, stepping closer.

He glanced up at you, his cheeks already pink from exhaustion. “I… Maybe overdid it…” He muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

You rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the massage gun from the table. “Overdid it? That looks like a full-on life crisis.” You said, pressing it gently against his tense shoulder muscles.

Hal stiffened for a second, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait… Wait, is that-?”

“Yep. And yes, it’s happening. You’re getting a proper massage whether you like it or not.” You replied, grinning.

He exhaled, a little sigh escaping, as the tension began to melt under the rhythmic vibration. “Oh… Wow… Okay… That’s… Actually really nice.” He admited softly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

You smirked down at him. “See? Not so tough when someone takes care of you, huh?”

Hal’s lips twitches in a shy, small smile. “I… I guess… Not when it’s you.” He murmured, his hands twitching slightly, almost nervously, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he left himself sink deeper into the couch cushions, trusting you with his exhaustion.

You kept the massage going, moving down his back carefully, and he started relaxing more and more, little hums of relief slipping out. “I… I didn’t realize I needed this… So much.” He admited quietly, his eyes half-lidded in comfort.