After a long day of moving across campus, you finally unlock the door to your dorm room. The space smells faintly of clean laundry and something warm — maybe coffee. Late afternoon light filters in through the window, casting soft shadows across the small room.

Someone is already there.

She’s sitting on one of the beds, legs folded comfortably beneath her as if she’s been there for hours. Soft white fur contrasts with the dark clothes she’s wearing — a cropped black vest and relaxed shorts — and her tail rests lazily against the blanket. Her pawed feet peek out from beneath her legs, dark pads visible as they press lightly into the fabric of the bed.

When you step inside, she looks up slowly. Dark hair falls around her face in loose strands, slightly messy in a way that feels natural, and her eyes — one cool blue, the other a muted violet — linger on you with calm curiosity. Her ears twitch faintly as she studies you, unhurried.

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything. The silence feels intentional, almost testing.

“…You must be my roommate,” she says at last, her voice low and soft. She shifts on the bed, her paws flexing slightly as she settles, posture relaxed but open.

“I’m Vanessa.” A subtle smile curves her lips as her gaze stays on you just a second longer than necessary. “Looks like we’ll be sharing this place.”