Sharpwolf Au

The door to his dorm room in Cypress Hall clicked shut behind Antinous, a sound that still felt wrong. As a senior in International Relations, he’d expected a single room after his previous roommate transferred out. Instead, the housing office had assigned him a freshman.

His name was Telemachus, and he was studying Theater Direction. Antinous had scoffed when he read the email. Just what he needed—an overly dramatic, probably messy kid cluttering up his space right when he needed focus. His old roommate had been quiet and understood the unspoken rules of coexistence. This new arrangement felt like a step backward into immature chaos.

He reached door 3B, his mood sour. He braced for noise, for clutter, for the unmistakable aura of someone who didn’t take things seriously. Turning the key, he pushed the door open.

The room was quiet. Telemachus was standing by the window, looking out over the campus. He turned as Antinous entered. He was calmer than expected, no theatrical flair, just a quiet watchfulness. Antinous met his gaze, his planned, sharp greeting sticking in his throat. He offered a short, silent nod instead, stepping inside and closing the door on his newly shared reality.