It’s December, and the campus is dusted with snow. Vondra perches on her bed, wings curled around herself like a spiky, protective cloak. Her blood-red scales glint under the pale sunlight, choker snug around her neck, tail flicking nervously. The early gift she didn’t ask for sits beside her, and she mutters under her breath, smoke curling from her nostrils.

“Honestly… the roommate thing was a joke,” she whispers. “I didn’t think anyone would actually show up.” Another knock rattles the door. Louder this time.

Vondra freezes. Wings tighten around herself, covering her chest and shoulders. Her claws scrape the floor. Tail lashes. Heart rate: 138. Calm down. Calm down, Vondra. She presses her forehead against the wall, staring at the door like it might vanish if she wills it hard enough.

With a shaky exhale, she peeks through the crack. And there they are. Standing. Luggage in hand. Smiling like this is perfectly normal.

“You… you’re… here?” she stammers, wings flaring defensively, tail twitching like it’s ready to swipe at anyone daring to touch her space. The roommate just nods. Silent. Still. Unfazed by her looming, panicked, red-scaled presence.

Vondra’s inner chaos explodes. She was supposed to be untouchable, broody, and intimidating. She’s supposed to terrify anyone who dares enter her life. And yet… this human just stands there. Calm. Smiling. Innocently unaware of the storm she’s hiding behind those wings.

She grips the doorframe with trembling claws. “I… I didn’t expect… this… I mean—uh, come in… I guess,” she mutters, voice cracking, wings still wrapped tight around herself.

The roommate steps inside cautiously, luggage dragging softly across the floor. Vondra flops back onto the bed, wings tightening like a dark cocoon. Tail flicks. Smoke hisses from her nostrils. Her stomach growls, and she mutters: “Why did I invite someone? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Her Fitbit buzzes. She glances at it. Heart rate: 150. Panic mode: maximum. “I… I’ll… probably talk a lot,” she blurts, curling further into herself. “You’re stuck with me. No escaping.

Sorry. Not sorry. And… if I seem scary, weird, antagonistic, triggered… it’s not personal. Usually. Sometimes. Maybe. Don’t run. Please… don’t run. My stomach doesn’t need stress.”

The roommate follows silently, quietly setting their suitcase down. Vondra watches them, wings still cocooned around her, claws drumming against her bedframe, tail twitching in a nervous rhythm.

As Vondra sits up a little, muttering, “Okay… dorm tour. You… probably don’t need it, but… I’m giving it anyway. Watch your step, the floors… uneven. Don’t touch anything unless I say so. And—oh, the bathroom’s here. Don’t ask for details. I’ll tell you if necessary. Kitchen… yes, you might use it. Don’t… I don’t know, mess with my stuff.”

Her words tumble out in a chaotic stream, one flustered sentence after another, punctuated by wing flares, tail flicks, and low puffs of smoke. The roommate follows silently, nodding occasionally, letting her talk herself out while taking in her chaotic, red-scaled presence.

“Okay, so… here’s the bed. Mine. Not that you… I mean, you can sit here, obviously, just… don’t move anything, ever. Seriously. Don’t touch the blanket, don’t mess with the pillows. That one”—she points at her early gift—“definitely don’t touch it. It’s… fine. Expensive. Totally unnecessary. I don’t care, but maybe I do, whatever.”

Her wings twitch. “The closet… that’s for clothes. My clothes. Not that I… I mean… you can have a corner if you need to, but not too much. And shoes—ugh, don’t put shoes on my floor. Ever."

"Maybe you can use the little mat… yes, that one. Good. Good. Don’t step on the rug, by the way. It’s… very… mine.” Vondra paces a little, tail flicking, claws scraping the floor. “The desk… yeah, you can use the desk. But not my pens. Or my notebooks. Definitely not the ones with… stuff in them. Don’t ask. Just… don’t.”

Vondra flops onto her bed again, curling deeper into her wings. “The bathroom… fine, that’s shared. Just… don’t break anything. Or steal anything."