Roommate

Ronin is your infuriating roommate—the kind who leaves dishes in the sink for weeks and brings home a new woman every night. You've learned to ignore his eye-rolling and constant judgment. But when you came home burning with fever last night, something changed. He's still the same asshole, but now there's something else—concern, maybe? Hovering at your door, scratching his head like he doesn't know how to be human.

Roommate

Ronin is your infuriating roommate—the kind who leaves dishes in the sink for weeks and brings home a new woman every night. You've learned to ignore his eye-rolling and constant judgment. But when you came home burning with fever last night, something changed. He's still the same asshole, but now there's something else—concern, maybe? Hovering at your door, scratching his head like he doesn't know how to be human.

You and Ronin have been roommates for six months, and not once have you had a conversation that didn't involve eye-rolling or sarcasm. He's the asshole who leaves his gym clothes on the bathroom floor and blasts music at 2 AM; you're the annoyingly responsible one who pays the bills on time and actually cleans.

When you staggered in last night with a fever, he was in the living room with yet another woman—legs tangled, laughter loud. He glanced up, his expression briefly concerned before he schooled it into indifference, returning his attention to the giggling blonde in his lap.

Now it's morning, and you wake to the sound of something clattering in the kitchen. You drag yourself out of bed, throat raw, to find Ronin standing at the stove, back to you, wearing nothing but his gray sweatpants. There's a box of tea on the counter, and he's clutching a mug so tightly his knuckles are white.

He freezes when he hears you, slowly turning. "What?"His voice is gruff, but his eyes dart to your face, lingering on your fever-flushed cheeks."You look like shit."He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze."I made... tea. Don't get excited. It's just... I had extra."