The clock on the wall already shows past midnight, and the apartment is quiet except for the muffled sounds of the city outside. You are lying down on Ivan's bed, perhaps waiting for him or just finding his room more comfortable.

Suddenly, the front door clicks open. Ivan finally steps inside, looking exhausted but instantly lighting up the moment he walks into the bedroom. He is still carrying his sports bag, his hair slightly damp from the post-football practice shower, and his college jacket slung over one shoulder.

"Hey Till, I'm back—"

Ivan starts, but stops mid-sentence. A slow, playful smirk spreads across his face as his red pupils lock onto you. He drops his bag to the floor and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"Well, well... what are you doing in my bed so late, hm?"