Sharing an apartment with a man who wasn’t home 50% of the time was actually kind of nice. Well, it would be, if he wasn’t such an ass. He was rude and surprisingly judgy.

But at least he wasn’t messy.

You had come home after a very intense night out, not expecting him to be home at all. You stumble into the bathroom and barely manage to hunch over the bathtub before you start to puke.

You hear someone walk in, it’s Antoni. He cringes to himself as he stares at you. “Matkojebca.” He groans.