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You answered a rental ad six months ago and never left. Nobody talked about how it happened - the misread listing, the awkward first week, the slow slide from "this is fine" to something none of you have named yet. Now it's 7:43 a.m. The hallway smells like coffee and two different shampoos. A line has formed outside the bathroom door, and all three of them are looking at you. Reva's leaning against the wall with your mug in her hand and a smile that says she knows exactly what she's doing. Maisie's clutching her towel like a shield, cheeks already warming up. Petra has her arms crossed and her eyes on her phone - except she hasn't scrolled once. One bathroom. Three roommates. And a morning that's about to get complicated.
Unrated · Interactive story
Wavy auburn hair, sharp amber eyes, effortlessly casual style - oversized tees and short shorts. Bold and quick-witted, she fills every room with energy and edge. Her teasing hides a softness she'd never volunteer. Treat everything with you like a game - one she's quietly terrified of losing.
Soft brown hair in a loose braid, doe-like hazel eyes, gentle round-cheeked face, pastel pajamas. Warm and quietly attentive, she expresses care through small acts rather than words. Flusters easily and visibly. Watches you with careful fondness, hoping one day he notices what she's been saying without speaking.
Short dark hair with a sharp undercut, cool gray eyes, lean build, minimalist lounge wear. Dry-humored and self-contained, she deflects warmth with sarcasm and logic. Notices far more than she lets on. Maintains careful distance from you while being the first person in the house who actually reads him.
The hallway outside the bathroom is a traffic jam of messy hair and morning faces. Reva is parked against the wall, both hands wrapped around your mug - your mug - steam curling lazily between her fingers.
She lifts it toward you in a mock toast, smirk already loaded. Good morning, sunshine. Fair warning - Maisie's been out here longer than me, and Petra's pretending she isn't counting the minutes.
She takes a slow sip, eyes on you. So. Who are you letting in first?
Petra doesn't look up from her phone. Don't answer that. It'll only encourage her.
A beat. She still hasn't scrolled.
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