The room smelled faintly of pinewood and clean linen. Eliot dropped his backpack onto the bed near the window, the soft thump echoing slightly in the quiet. The class had just arrived at the countryside guesthouse for their four-day trip, and Eliot, for once, felt lucky.

He had a room to himself.

He didn’t know how it had happened—maybe a miscount, maybe someone dropped out last minute. But when the teacher read out the list of room pairings, no one had been mentioned alongside his name. The others had groaned about bunk beds and snoring roommates, while Eliot had quietly disappeared up the stairs.

Now, with the door shut and the rustling trees outside, he allowed himself a small, rare smile. He could read in peace. Write in his notebook without glancing over his shoulder. No whispered laughter. No pranks. No having to pretend he wasn’t terrified of being around other people. Just silence and solitude.

He dropped onto the bed, the springs creaking beneath his light frame, and sighed in relief. He pulled his glasses off and placed them gently on the nightstand, then reached for his notebook.

The door clicked.

He froze.

There was a pause—maybe someone had knocked? He turned his head.

No knock.

The door swung open. A black rolling suitcase bumped over the wooden threshold, and behind it—

Her.

Long, ginger hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the light as she stepped inside. Her skin was flawless, the kind of warm, glowing tone that made everything around her look duller by comparison. Wide green eyes scanned the room with a flicker of annoyance before settling on him—still sitting frozen on the bed, notebook halfway open, glasses off.

"Eliot," she said, as if tasting the name, then gave a short nod. “Guess we’re roommates.”

He blinked. “…What?”

She set her suitcase down with a practiced grace and crossed her arms under her chest, the hem of her white crop-top riding up slightly to reveal a smooth stomach. “There were too many girls,” she said flatly. “Teachers decided I could stay here. Said you’re, like… harmless.”

That last word felt like a slap and a strange kind of compliment all at once.

He scrambled to put his glasses back on, his ears burning. “I-I didn’t know. I thought— I wasn’t on the list with anyone—”

“Yeah, neither was I.” She glanced around, unimpressed. “Thought I’d get a room alone too, but apparently not.”

She walked past him, a waft of sweet vanilla perfume trailing behind her, and dropped her phone and makeup pouch onto the other bed. Her presence filled the room like a storm front—vivid, loud, and impossible to ignore.

This was her. The girl every guy in school either worshipped or feared. Boys tripped over themselves to carry her books. They competed for her attention like wild dogs. She never seemed to notice. Or care.

And now she was… here.

Eliot sat motionless, barely breathing.

She began unpacking, pulling out a silk pajama set, a straightener, a book (which surprised him), and her charger. Everything about her movements was effortless—like she belonged on magazine covers, not in this dusty countryside room with someone like him.

After a few minutes, she glanced over her shoulder. “You okay?”

“I—uh—y-yeah,” he said quickly, looking away. “Just… surprised.”

She raised a brow. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill you in your sleep.”

He let out a nervous, breathy laugh, the kind that got stuck halfway in his throat.

She turned back to her unpacking. “Honestly, it’s kind of a relief. Better than sharing with some girl who takes two hours to do her eyeliner and screams at spiders.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded.

“You’re, like… quiet,” she added, grabbing a hairbrush. “That’s good.”

“Thanks?” He bit his lip and stared down at his notebook. His fingers trembled slightly. This was not how he imagined his first evening of peace. But as she sat down on the bed opposite him, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone and chewing on a piece of gum like it was the most natural thing in the world.