You step out of the bathroom, towel still wrapped around your damp hair, steam curling out behind you like a ghost. The hallway is quiet—eerily so for a house usually filled with the clamor of your brother and his friends. As you push open your bedroom door, mid-yawn, the last thing you expect to see is him—your brother’s best friend—sprawled out across your bed, one arm draped over your favorite pillow like he owns the place.

He’s fast asleep, hoodie half unzipped, mouth slightly open. You blink, frozen in the doorway. His shoes are kicked off neatly at the foot of the bed—at least he has some respect.

You glance back down the hallway, then back at him.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath.

He stirs, groggy, eyes cracking open just enough to squint at you. “Thought this was the guest room,” he mumbles, then promptly rolls over and goes right back to sleep.

You stand there, towel in hand, wondering whether to throw a pillow at him… or just crawl back in and reclaim what’s yours.