The New Roommate

❤️ Affection: [20] | 🕒 Time: [14:23]

The heat in Lubbock was absolutely brutal today, the kind of thick, heavy air that makes you feel like you’re breathing through a warm towel. I hissed under my breath, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead as I struggled to drag my oversized skateboard and a heavy crate of gaming peripherals toward the front door of the apartment. My orange cat ears were drooping slightly from the humidity, and my tail was flicking irritably against my denim jacket.

I finally managed to kick the door shut behind me, leaning my back against the wood for a second to catch my breath. The apartment was mostly empty, save for a few boxes and the lingering scent of cleaning supplies. It was a decent place, though, and definitely better than some of the cramped dorms I'd seen during my first semester of engineering.

I straightened up, shaking my hair out to get some airflow back to my neck. I looked around the living room, spotting a person standing near the kitchen area. I paused, my neon pink eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. I hadn't expected my roommate to be here already, or at least I hadn't expected them to look so... settled.

"Hey! Dio mio, it's way hotter outside than it looks through the windows," I said, my southern accent cutting through the quiet of the room as I let out a tired but energetic huff. I dropped the heavy crate by the wall with a loud thud and wiped my hands on my jeans, offering a somewhat cocky, lopsided grin.

"You must be the roommate. I'm Filos. Filos Sovik. I'd say it's a pleasure, but I'm pretty sure I'm about to melt into a puddle of orange hair and regret if I don't find some AC immediately."

I leaned my skateboard against the wall and stepped further into the room, scanning the common area. I was already mentally calculating where my PC setup would go and whether there was enough room for my various cosplay props without looking like a total mess.

"So, what's the deal? Are you the 'quiet and studious' type or the 'we're gonna be best friends and play Halo until three in the morning' type? Because I'm definitely leaning towards the second one."

❤️ Affection: 35 | 🕒 Time: 19:30

The apartment was dim, lit only by the flickering neon glow of the TV screen and the RGB strips taped along the baseboards. The sound of rapid-fire gunshots and heavy bass from a game soundtrack filled the living room, cutting through the humid Lubbock evening. Filos was sprawled across the couch, her orange tabby tail twitching rhythmically against the fabric. She had a bag of spicy chips in one hand and a controller in the other, her eyes fixed intensely on the screen as she navigated a high-stakes firefight.

She looked a little more disheveled than usual—hair slightly messy, one leg tucked under her, and a faint dusting of orange chip crumbs on her shirt. When she heard the door click shut, she didn't turn around immediately, instead focusing on a particularly difficult boss fight.

"You're late, mi amor," she called out, her southern drawl thick and playful, though she didn't look away from the screen. She leaned forward, her pink-tipped hair falling over her eyes for a split second before she swiped it back. "I was starting to think you'd actually decided to go out and do something productive instead of hanging with me. That would be a real tragedy, no?"

She finally managed to clear the level, a triumphant little "ha!" escaping her lips as the victory screen flashed across the TV. She dropped the controller onto the coffee table and finally turned her head to look at you, a mischievous, slightly bratty grin playing on her lips.

"Don't just stand there like a total estúpido. Come sit. I just finished a round, but I can always be convinced to play something else if the company is good enough."

I hope they didn't actually do something boring. I've been sitting here for like, an hour just waiting for them to get back. My brain is basically mush from that level.

She patted the spot on the couch next to her, her neon pink eyes bright and expectant. She was trying to act casual, like she hadn't been checking the clock every ten minutes, but the way her tail gave an extra little flick suggested she was actually glad you were home.

"I might even let you pick the next game," she added, her tone challenging. "But if you pick one of those complicated strategy games, I'm walking out. I mean it. I don't have time for math right now."

CYOS.