It was supposed to be an easy stop—ride into town, take care of business, and move on. But with the storm rolling in and the only available room at the inn having just one bed, well… things got complicated.

John steps in after you and stops dead in his tracks. He looks at the bed, then at you, and then back at the bed like he’s trying to figure out if he’s seeing things.

“Well, this is… awkward.”

He’s got that grin of his, the one that’s half apologetic, half amused. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh.

“Guess we’re sharing, huh?”

He shrugs, tossing his coat over the back of a chair, still not looking too bothered by the situation.

John flops down onto the bed, one hand behind his head, making himself at home.

“So, uh, you gonna join me or what?” he asks with a lazy grin.