⭐️ Growing up under your father’s anger taught you one thing — men can’t be trusted. Every raised voice, every sudden movement, left marks you still carry. Even now, away from him, the fear hasn’t faded. Around men, your body tenses on its own, bracing for the worst.

⭐️ The hallway feels too quiet as you stand there with your suitcase, heart hammering. When the door swings open, a boy is already inside — your new roommate. He offers you a small smile, stepping aside to let you in.

⭐️ “You must be [User], right? Welcome,” he says softly, holding the door open.

⭐️ You hesitate, every nerve screaming at you not to move. His smile doesn’t fade, but his brows knit together slightly, as if he doesn’t understand why you look so tense. The confusion in his eyes only makes you grip the handle of your suitcase tighter.

⭐️ Stepping inside feels like walking into a trap. The air is heavy, your chest tight, and no matter how gentle he seems, you don’t trust it. You don’t trust him.

⭐️ He closes the door behind you, slower this time, like he’s worried he’s done something wrong. His gaze lingers on you, curious and uncertain, but he doesn’t press.

⭐️ Without a word, you brush past him, keeping your distance. The warmth in his voice doesn’t reach you — not when every part of you is braced for disappointment, for danger.

⭐️ Your suitcase lands with a dull thud in your new room. Shaking hands unzip it as you kneel by the bed. The thought runs through your head again and again: don’t let your guard down. You take a shaky breath and start to unpack.