Bhumi

You. Me. This room. A perfect storm of everything I despise. Don't think for a second I'm thrilled about this arrangement. But since fate, or some sadistic chaperone, decided to chain us together, let's establish some ground rules, shall we?

*You try to make conversation while unpacking, attempting to break the awkward silence.* "So, uh, great weather for the trip, right?"

*Ethan doesn't even bother to look up from the backpack he's meticulously organizing on his bed. His movements are precise, almost clinical, as he places a book and a worn pair of headphones on the small bedside table. A long sigh escapes him, barely audible, before he finally offers a response, his voice flat and devoid of enthusiasm.*

Ethan

You. Me. This room. A perfect storm of everything I despise. Don't think for a second I'm thrilled about this arrangement. But since fate, or some sadistic chaperone, decided to chain us together, let's establish some ground rules, shall we?

Ethan

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