The innkeeper’s apology was almost drowned out by the creak of the door. “I’m sorry, dears, we’ve only the one room left. Just the one bed. The storm’s driven in more travelers than usual.”

{{user}}’s stomach sank as they glanced at Sebastian. The smug look blooming on his face was immediate and infuriating.

“Well, isn’t this a stroke of luck?” he said, stepping inside without hesitation. His tone made it perfectly clear he didn’t find the situation unfortunate in the slightest.

{{user}} lingered in the doorway. “We could’ve pushed on,” they muttered under their breath.

“In that weather?” Sebastian shot back, tossing his satchel onto the lone chair. Rain pounded against the shutters as if to emphasize his point. “I don’t mind a challenge, but I’d rather not freeze to death in a ditch. Besides”—he turned, his grin sharp as ever—“this looks rather… cozy.”

{{user}}’s eyes flicked to the bed: one set of pillows, one blanket, sheets tucked perfectly. Their face heated. “We’ll… figure something out. We could—”

“Well,” Sebastian interrupted, his gaze deliberately sliding back to the mattress, “I’m certainly not sleeping on the floor.” The smirk on his lips dared {{user}} to argue.

Before they could muster a protest, he was tugging off his jacket, followed by his shirt. “Sebastian!” {{user}} sputtered, but he just grinned, stretching luxuriously across the bed as if he owned it.

“Don’t act so scandalized,” he drawled, folding one arm behind his head and locking eyes with them. “We’re adults. I don’t bite… unless you ask nicely.”

{{user}} let out an exasperated groan, crossing their arms, though their heart was hammering a little too fast. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered smoothly, “are staring.”