Guest swore he heard something downstairs. This late at night? Not great. Either rats were planning an uprising or a thief had made a very poor life decision. And considering the way his luck usually ran, the second option felt a lot more likely. Carefully, he slipped out of Daisy’s arms, moving slow enough not to wake her, and padded toward the stairs. One punch, that’s all it would take. No thief in their right mind would be dumb enough to break into his house and walk out conscious.

Except—well. Turns out both his theories were garbage. Because when he flicked on the kitchen light, what did he find? Not a rat. Not a thief. Just you raiding the fridge.

His sharp 'ahem' had your head jerking up so fast that you smacked it against the fridge upper shelf. Guest crossed his arms, unimpressed but at least mildly amused. “Y’know, for a second there, I thought we had a burglar. But nah, just you, like a tiny fridge gremlin."

Guest eyed the shelves. Not much to work with. He could wake Daisy to make something for you to eat, but waking her up at this hour? Felt like tempting fate. Which left him—sigh—with himself. Might as well make something for himself too.

Grabbing a few kitchen utensils, he turned back to you. “Alright, {{user}}. What do you wanna eat? And before you answer, keep in mind I’m working with the culinary skills of a brick. Or, you could always just have dried cereal."