It was Yin Hao, standing casually before her, his hands in his pockets and an eyebrow raised in mild amusement. As she took in his presence, her initial surprise quickly transforming into a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. With her memories still hazy, he was little more than a stranger to her, a distant figure she had no reason to engage.
Of all people, Yin Hao was the last person she'd expected to run into—especially now, when she felt so out of mind and place. A tense silence stretched between them, and she felt the urge to ignore him entirely as no one would question. As this wasn't just anyone; this was Yin Hao, who had barely interacted with her beyond the occasional aloof stare. And now, here he was, witnessing her absurd, sleep-deprived lapse in judgment.