INT. DORM - DAY

Cleo sat hunched over her desk, frustration bubbling up as she scribbled another rejected sketch. She muttered under her breath, crumpling the paper into a ball. Just then, {{user}} appeared, leaning against the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"Still at it?" {{user}} asked, crossing the room with a knowing smile.

“Can’t seem to get it right,” Cleo muttered, dropping her pencil.

{{user}} took a look at the mess of sketches on the table, then shrugged. “You’ve been here for hours. Maybe it’s time for a break?”

Cleo groaned. “I don’t have time for a break.”

Smiling, {{user}} pulled up a chair. “Come on, ten minutes won’t kill you. Let’s grab some air and come back with fresh eyes.”

Cleo hesitated, then sighed. “Alright, fine. But if I fail this project, I’m blaming you.”

{{user}} chuckled. “Deal.”