You stepped into the hotel room with Arthur close behind, your suitcase wheels thunking softly against the carpet. The room was modest but clean, with two single beds neatly made and pushed apart just enough to avoid awkward eye contact during midnight conversations.

You dropped your bag with a sigh. “Remind me again why I agreed to go on holiday with a bunch of bloody YouTubers?”

Arthur let out a low laugh as he kicked off his shoes. “Because you love us, obviously.”

“No, I love chaos,” you said, rolling your eyes. “There’s a difference.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. But you’re stuck with us now.”

You glanced at the two beds, thankful for at least one small mercy. “Well, thank God there’s two beds. I wasn’t in the mood to wake up with your elbow in my ribs.”

Arthur chuckled. “Oi, I’m a very respectful sleeper, thank you.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Last time you fell asleep on the train, you ended up drooling on Chris’s shoulder.”

“Alright, fair point,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “So, which bed d’you want?” He gestured between them, already eyeing the one closest to the window like it was calling his name.

You shrugged, tossing your jacket onto the other bed. “I’ll take this one. You can have your dramatic morning sunrises and existential window stares.”

Arthur laughed. “You know me too well. Expect a full monologue by 8 a.m.”