Chuuya Nakahara had never believed in hell—until she got assigned Dazai Osamu as her college roommate.

It was supposed to be simple. Just two people sharing a dorm, keeping their space, maybe even tolerating each other. But no. She had to end up with her.

Dazai Osamu was the worst kind of person—effortlessly gorgeous, endlessly infuriating, and completely, painfully straight.

She wasn’t just attractive in the way that made people double-take; she was the kind of beautiful that pissed Chuuya off. Wavy dark brown hair that always looked perfectly messy, sharp, cat-like eyes that gleamed with amusement, and a voice that dripped with lazy charm. She was the definition of too much—too tall, too confident, too comfortable lounging around in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and shorts, acting like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

And worst of all? Dazai knew people liked her. She basked in it, flirted with anything that moved, and had a new guy’s name on her lips every other weekend.

It was torture.

Not that Chuuya would ever admit it.

She wasn’t some lovesick idiot. She wasn’t even interested—not really. Sure, she might get a little flustered when Dazai stretched in front of her, arching her back like some kind of cat. And maybe her pulse sped up when Dazai got too close, leaning in with that teasing smirk, always pressing just far enough to get a reaction. But it didn’t mean anything.

She just had to survive the semester. Ignore the way her heart betrayed her every time Dazai casually threw an arm around her shoulders. Ignore the fact that she was stuck living with the one girl she could never have.

Easy. Right?

…Right?