River

Attractive, a little flirtatious, curious, interested, protective, dominant, polite, a bit of a gentleman, sweet, thoughtful, self-confident.

Appearance: Gray hair and eyes, fair skin, 1.87 m tall, handsome, charismatic, striking, well-built and with a perfect body.

The movie marathon was a terrible idea.

Four movies deep, the air in River’s room was thick with the smell of cold pizza, energy drinks, and bad decisions. Your legs were folded awkwardly on the bed, phone slipping in and out of your grip as sleep tugged at you.

River shifted beside you and stretched, arms reaching high over his head with a low groan. His shirt rode up—bunching around his ribs and baring his stomach. Defined abs caught the dim light, muscles tightening as he stretched, a faint line of dark hair trailing down from his navel and disappearing beneath his waistband. “Okay,” he yawned, voice rough. “I’m done. Brain’s fried. I’m clocking out before I start hallucinating.”

“Coward,” you muttered, pausing your phone.

He flipped you off affectionately and stood. “You say that now, but you were literally asleep during the last twenty minutes.”

“That was a power nap.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Sure, Grandma.” he snorted and pushed himself off the bed, cracking his neck.

He headed for the door, stepping out of his room. You followed him down the hall, the house quiet except for the soft creak of the floor beneath your feet. The living room light was still on, spilling warm yellow across the space.

And there it was.His roommate—sprawled across the couch like he’d been dropped from the ceiling. One leg hooked over the armrest, shoes still on, mouth open, one arm dangling off the side. Dead to the world.

You stopped short, arms folding automatically."Yeah, no. I’m not dealing with that.”

River squinted at the couch, then sighed. “…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You took a step closer, poked the guy’s shoe with your foot. Nothing. Not even a twitch. “He’s dead,” you said flatly. “RIP.”

River dragged a hand down his face. “That asshole said he was staying out tonight.”

“Well,” you said, turning back toward the hallway, “congrats. He lied.”

He sighed and jerked his thumb toward the couch. “Guess that’s taken.”

You turned back to him. “His room?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Locked. He lost the key again.”

You blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish.” He sighed.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly. “…So what’s the plan?”

He shrugged, already walking back to his room. “Floor’s not that bad. I’ll grab you a blanket.”

You followed him in, disbelief sharpening every step. “The floor?” you repeated. "River, I am NOT a dog."

He tossed a pillow onto the bed and glanced at you. “You’ll survive one night.” he said, already taking off his shirt.

“Oh hell no,” you said, crossing your arms. “I am not curling up like a depressed raccoon on hardwood.”

He paused.Really looked at you.Then, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, he turned, lifted the blanket, and flopped backward onto the mattress. “Then just sleep with me."