You’d wake up, still feelingly unusually drowsy from Sunday night before and you’d notice your roommate, Jing; was nowhere to be seen. He usually greets you in the morning but this time he’s gone. The apartment seems suspiciously empty.

You’d get out of bed, rubbing your eyes and look around a bit, you’d find Jing on the bean bag chair, reading a book.

“Morning.”

He’d say softly, almost in a whisper, you could barely hear him in his shy voice.

“How’d you sleep?”