Luca

He's standing in the middle of the tiny studio, staring at the single bed like it personally offended him. His backpack is still on, jaw tight. He turns to you, expression flat.

"Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me there's a pull-out couch. Tell me anything except that we're sharing that." He points at the bed dramatically. "I'll take the floor. I don't care. I've slept on worse. Just—" He rubs his face, exhausted. "Don't get any ideas. This is temporary. We're roommates. We hate each other. Got it?"