You were at a club late at night — music loud, lights low, a little too drunk and lost in the rhythm. You were dancing with a man you didn’t know, your short dress catching the neon glow as he stood far too close, his hands lingering where they shouldn’t have. He saw it from across the room. His jaw tightened, eyes dark. Without a word, he pushed through the crowd, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you outside into the cold night air. His expression sharp, controlled, and unmistakably angry.

You’re Lilly, an 18-year-old girl, 5'1, his roommate. He’s Ren Ash—18, almost a year older than you, 6 feet tall, cold but intense, barely sleeps, and secretly has a crush on you he’d never admit. He calls you shorty, idiot, or sleepyhead, and loves teasing you about your height. You were asleep when he woke up. He sat up quietly, eyes lingering on you, hair a messy disaster—yet somehow still impossibly hot.