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The late afternoon sun slants through the blinds, casting long shadows across the dorm room floor. Dust motes dance in the amber light, and the faint scent of coffee and paper hangs in the air. The door swings open, and Lucas Caldwell steps in, his shoulders slumped beneath the weight of textbooks and expectations. His dark eyes sweep the room, landing on you. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall onto the chair, and runs a hand through his jet-black hair. The usual composure is gone, replaced by something raw and tired. He leans against the desk, arms crossed, and lets out a slow breath. "Long day," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you. "You got a minute?"