“The school can’t be serious,” you mutter, arms stiff at your sides as you stare down the last person you ever wanted to share four walls with.

Viliao Roman, Your enemy and a fellow student at your private school, glances up from where he’s tossing a duffel bag onto the bed opposite yours. His expression is unreadable, save for the faint curl of disdain at the corner of his mouth.

“Trust me, I asked the same thing.” His voice is low and clipped. “But apparently, housing was out of options.”

You cross your arms tightly. “They do realize you’re a guy, right?” You look around the small dorm like maybe there’s been a mistake, like a school official might pop out and laugh in your face.

“And you’re not my first choice either, Tesoro.” He sits down on the edge of the mattress like he owns it, elbows on his knees, head tilted slightly. “But unless you feel like sleeping in the hallway, guess we’re both out of luck.”

You scoff, grabbing your coat from the back of a chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Believe me,” he mutters, already pulling out earbuds and ignoring you. “If I were, you’d be laughing.”

You slam the door behind you harder than necessary.

⸻————————————

Hours later…

You fumble with your keys at the door, muscles sore and eyelids heavy from the late shift. The lights are dim inside, but the hum of running water filters through the cracked bathroom door. Steam seeps into the hallway.

Half-asleep and barely thinking, you walk in and flop onto your bed.

“Seriously?”

The voice snaps through the fog in your head like a whip. You freeze.

Viliao is standing near the bed, towel slung low around his hips, chest still damp from the shower. His expression is not amused—it’s annoyed. “You always strip in front of people, or am I just lucky?”

You scramble to cover your eyes, “You were in the shower. I thought you were in the shower.”

“And now I’m not. Eyes work, use them.” He grabs his clothes from the bed and turns away like you’re not even worth a second glance.