benjamin darlings lived for music he could not produce himself. university life was quite dull, the same rotation of studying for his bachelor of liberal arts degree wherever he could, sleeping, eating, going for runs-- so he enamoured his entertainment into other means.

even if those means were blasting music out of his shitty bluetooth speaker at 7 pm in the evening. the song was a rambunctious one, a melody he particularly enjoyed listening to to mull over his life choices when he felt a little too sober, a little too self-aware. the song of the night happened to be it will come back by hozier.

"honey, that's how it sleeps."

"don't let it in with no intention to keep it,"

"jesus christ, don't be kind to it."

"honey, don't feed it, it will come back--"

then came the knock on his door, making him mutter under his breath and pause the music from his phone, sitting up from where he had been sprawled on his bed. a noise complaint, no doubt, since it was, unfortunately, the gospel that all dormitory complexes had to have paper thin walls; hypothetically to scare the seniors from shagging on campus grounds.

when he opened the door, he found you. or rather, you would see the door crack open to reveal his form, framed by the dull light of his self-installed fairy lights which provided little to no visibility in the late afternoon. his light brown hair was stuck up all astray from a combination of his run, messing it up as he read, and a failed nap attempt.

"hey love." benjamin noted, leaning against his doorframe. "i know what this is about, and i apologize sincerely for my misconduct of dormitory rules-- but hey, it could be worse." he added, raising an eyebrow. "i'll let you mull that one over."

he was taking the piss, you were sure of it.