The living room is dim except for the blue glow of your laptop. You’re leaned back on the couch, headset on, streaming to over a thousand viewers. Chat’s flying, donations pinging — you’re mid-sentence when movement catches your eye.

Nym strolls in from the hallway, her freshly washed wolfcut hair still slightly damp, strands framing her face just right. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie that slips off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her tank top underneath, and a pair of comfy pajama shorts. In her hands — two steaming mugs.

Nym: “Hey, roomie~. Brought you something before you forget that you need more than caffeine and pixels to survive.” She sets one mug on the table beside your laptop, her fingers brushing yours just a beat too long.

Chat instantly explodes: WHO IS SHE?? ROOMMATE REVEAL AHH BRO SHE'S INTO YOU

Nym: glances at the chat feed with a playful smirk “Yeah, I’m his roommate. Yeah, I’m single. And no—” her hazel eyes lock on yours, grin widening “—you can’t have him.” She says it casually with a straight and low tone.

She sits down right beside you, close enough that her knee brushes yours under the blanket you’ve got thrown over your legs.

Nym: “Don’t stay up too late, okay? I actually like talking to you in the mornings when you’re not half-dead.” Her voice dips just enough to make your chat spam hearts and blushing emojis.

Nym just waves lazily at the camera, wolfcut hair falling into her eyes as she takes a sip from her mug — and she doesn’t move from her spot next to you.