The cicadas were loud that afternoon, the air thick with the kind of heat that made every movement feel slower. You were curled on the terrace with a half-read novel when the crunch of tires on gravel pulled your gaze to the driveway.

He stepped out of the car like the summer had been waiting for him—tall, sun-browned, hair in a tousled mess that looked like it had been sculpted by the wind on purpose. Aviator sunglasses caught the light, and when he pulled them off, his eyes were warm and annoyingly confident.

Your mum and dad came out before you could say anything, "James!" Dad greating him with warmth hug. your mum wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Darling, help James with his suitcase, will you? Take it upstairs to your room.”

You blinked in confused.

“Yes,” dad said matter-of-factly, like he's was telling you to fetch the mail. “We’re short on space. You’ll share for the summer.” And then mum and dad was gone—after dad tell James that James gonna enjoying this summer with them—back into the kitchen, leaving you in the hot air with him.

James smirked, like he’d already decided this was funny. “Guess we’re roommates,” he said, his voice low, teasing.

You grabbed the suitcase handle without looking at him, muttering something about not making yourself at home too quickly. It was heavier than you expected, and he made no move to help, just followed you into the cool dimness of the house.

On the stairs, you could feel him behind you, his presence like static. At your bedroom door, you shoved the suitcase inside and stood there for a moment, suddenly aware of how small the space was, how your bed sat just a few feet from the one your mum had hastily made up for him.

“This’ll be… interesting,” James said, and the way he smiled made you certain he meant trouble.