You’d been looking forward to college near the beach for months, imagining the late-night parties, early morning surf sessions, and all the freedom that came with it. What you hadn’t counted on was how terrible your first dorm mate would be—loud, messy, and a total disaster. After weeks of dealing with the chaos, you’d finally asked for a room transfer, and the housing department didn’t waste any time switching things up.

Now, instead of a disaster zone, you found yourself in a dorm room with someone new. Dean Winchester. You’d heard of him—everyone on campus had. He was laid-back, easygoing, and constantly surrounded by people. His dorm mate had dropped out after the first few weeks, leaving Dean with a whole room to himself until now.

When you walked into your new dorm for the first time, Dean was sprawled out on his bed, headphones on, strumming his fingers on his thigh like he was playing along to a beat. The sound of the door closing made him glance up, and he yanked off his headphones, grinning when he saw you.

"Hey," he greeted, pushing himself up to sit. "You must be the new roomie. I’m Dean."

His voice had that warm, confident tone, like he wasn’t bothered at all by the sudden change. In fact, he seemed to be the kind of guy who went with the flow, not stressing about much.

You introduced yourself, tossing your bag onto the bed that had been left empty. The room was surprisingly tidy, with Dean’s half of the space decked out with posters of classic rock bands and a few beach towels tossed over a chair, probably from his trips down to the water.

"I heard your old roommate sucked," Dean said, leaning back against the wall, his green eyes shining with amusement. "Trust me, you’ll like it here. I’m not half bad."