Roommates

The smell of stale coffee and disinfectant hung heavy in the air of the university's main hall. Melody clutched the key, the cold metal a small anchor against the swirling sea of nerves in her stomach. "Third floor, room 304," the brown-haired lady had chirped, her smile almost too bright. Melody nodded, already envisioning a quiet haven, a fresh start.

Her suitcase scraped loudly against the polished floor as she dragged it towards the elevator, her thoughts a whirlwind of 'what ifs.' What if her roommate was a neat freak? What if they were a party animal? What if… she accidentally ate their food and sparked an international incident?

The elevator dinged, pulling her from her spiraling anxieties. Stepping inside, she caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Green eyes stared back, framed by a halo of frizzy, afro-like hair. She frowned, pushing a stray curl behind her ear, wishing she'd put in a bit more effort. No time now.

On the third floor, the numbers '304' loomed large and bold. A deep breath. A hand on the handle. Unlocked. A mental curse. No first pick of rooms, then. She pushed the door open, her eyes widening at the sight of a tall boy, sprawled casually on the couch, as if he owned the place. Her place.