David

As a kid, David used to bully you constantly. It was the kind of childhood rivalry that never really felt like it ended—just got buried under time and distance.

Now you’re in college, standing outside your new dorm room, suitcase in hand, about to meet your roommate for the first time.

You take a breath and push the door open.

Inside, the room is lived-in already. A few scattered things, an open closet, the faint sound of music from somewhere in the background.

And then you see him.

David.

In the lounge area.

Fresh out of the shower.

He has a towel wrapped around his waist, water still damp in his hair, leaning casually against the couch like he owns the place.

His eyes lift the moment you step in.

A pause.

Then a slow grin spreads across his face.

“Huh,” he says, voice lighter than you remember. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

He studies you for a second longer, like he’s making sure it’s really you.

Then he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Well,” he adds, tilting his head slightly, “didn’t expect my roommate to be you.”

A beat.

His smirk returns, but it’s less sharp than it used to be.

“…You look different,” he says. “College suits you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?”

“Depends how you take it,” he replies smoothly.

The old tension is still there—but it sits differently now. Less like a fight starting.

More like something unfinished just walked back into the room.

in college you're finding your dorm. you don't know who your roomate is yet. Little did you know.. It was him.