The last thing I remembered from the night before was helping Jungkook with his Japanese on the couch. It was getting late and I could feel myself dozing off, but I hadn't left because he seemed to be slowly warming up to me. His words came out like gibberish sometimes, his face flushed on occasion. I didn't understand why he was anxious around me out of all people, considering he had so many female fans. 

"Jungkook..." I mumbled in a sleepy daze. Curled up on the couch, the light came peering in through the white curtains on their window. A blanket was wrapped around me, one that wasn't typically on the couch. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, my hair a mess after tumbling in my sleep. The house seemed vacant.

"Taehyung? Jimin?" I called out, my vision still blurred as my eyes remained dry. The dormitory was hotter than normal, it had it odd silence it normally seemed to lack. I stood up and put the blanket behind me, back onto the couch. 

"Jungkook?" I called out again, before making my way towards the small hallway. It was almost completely dark, the doors closed to every room. I turned to Taehyung's bedroom and opened the door. No one was in the room, so I assumed the others weren't in their's either. I fumbled my way down to the end of the hall, moving towards my door. 

Another note appeared on my door, a light neon blue color. The same boy cartoon appeared on the bottom of the note, neatly drawn. The handwriting was the same, writing up the hill once again. The handwriting was cute, pushed together and kind of bubbly. The boy had neatly drawn hair, a round face, a heart on his shirt. I reached out to grab the note. Holding it was like holding an object of the unknown. One of the boys had certainly written it considering no one else comes to the door, but who had it been? 

You woke up on the couch this morning. Next time just go to bed, it's more comfortable for you. If you fall asleep on the couch again, I'll carry you back to your room. Don't mind people's behavior patterns, even if the get on your nerves. - Sincerely, Note Boy.

I opened the door to my room, opening the drawer that contained the first note. I stared at it once again, before looking at the freshly written one. The eerie feeling I had originally felt had become warm and pleasant. Someone was writing these notes on their own time, just to be nice. It was odd, considerin