To say that Kristoff Bjorgman had no sense of time would be an absolute lie. He paid more attention to where the sun was in the sky than he did to his own schoolwork half of the time, and had a better handle on what that placement meant than most, he imagined.
But, of course, to say that Kristoff had a tendency to be late? That would be more accurate. It wasn’t a lack of recognition that he struggled with when it came to the time of day, it was a lack of significance. He very much believed in the journey as opposed to the destination in terms of true importance, and sometimes he got a little bit too caught up in his journeys to remember when he had to be at said destination, or what was awaiting him once he arrived there.
Regardless of all of that, though, he was a bit… shocked? Surprised, at least, if only mildly so, to see that when he arrived his bed was already quite occupied. He’d never fallen asleep in any of his dorm mates beds before, but that didn’t mean people didn’t tell stories of it happening to them, and really, he could understand why. Classes were exhausting sometimes. Add everyone’s extracurricular on top of that and people were bound to be exhausted when they finally decided they had a moment to turn in for the night.
So he approached slowly once he caught the corner of a figure in his bed, peering through the doorway with something of an anxious curiosity, only to find- “Mocha?” he asked, for once genuinely surprised to see the girl. It had been a bit since they last spoke or saw each other, ,and while Kristoff liked to go it alone as much as the next person if not exponentially more, he did enjoy her company. All it took was one look on her face, of course, for him to begin to wonder. He asked, offering an out or a listening ear, “What’s happened?” because normally it was some sort of trial that got her in moods like this one.
Whatever the circumstances, personal space was damned when it came to the two of them at this point in their acquaintanceship, and Kristoff set his bad down at the end of his bed on the floor, draped his robes over one of the posts, and sat by the Slytherin, thighs flush against each other with Kristoff finding comfort in the warmth of their contact, though he’d die before he would admit it.
Mocha sighs, leaning her head against Kristoff’s shoulder. He was being nicer than normal, which threw her off a little, but she wasn’t going to complain. She would take the nice for however long she could. She liked it when he was sweet, mainly because he wasn’t normally, but also because he was...gentle. She knew hew was a big softie underneath; he wasn’t a Hufflepuff for nothing, but he sure loved making people work for the gentle side.
“Nothing important, honestly. I just....need to unwind. It’s been a busy week.” It’s been a busy year, but she wasn’t one to blow things out of proportion to someone she was still getting to know. “Are you up for entertaining me?” She looks up at him. “If not, I can go. I know you just got back and whatnot.”
