Zane had one simple mission at 1:42 a.m.:
Get water. Drink water. Go back to sleep like a normal human.
But normality clearly hated him.
Because instead of walking into the kitchen, Zane- sleepy, blind, betrayed by the universe -walked straight into Room 209.
Not his room.
Not even a remotely similar room.
Aiden’s room.
Aiden, who was very much awake, sitting on his bed with earphones in, munching chips like a gremlin prince.
They locked eyes.
Aiden slowly removed one earphone.
“…Why are you in my room? At midnight. Holding a pillow. And wearing mismatched socks.”
Zane looked down.
Oh.
Yes.
He was, in fact, holding his pillow like a toddler on vacation.
“Uh,” Zane began, trying to reboot his brain. “I got lost.”
“In the dorm you’ve lived in for two years?”
Zane nodded tragically. “Directions are hard.”
Aiden sighed the sigh of someone emotionally exhausted by another person’s existence. He stood up, walked over, and flicked Zane’s forehead so hard it rewired his entire soul.
“Zane,” Aiden said. “Were you sleepwalking?”
“No.”
“Drunk?”
“No.”
“Just stupid?”
“…Possibly.”
Aiden snorted. “Fantastic. Come in then. Let’s analyze your poor life choices.”
“NO-WAIT-”
Too late. Aiden pulled him inside.
Zane panicked. Aiden’s room was shockingly clean. Like, serial killer clean. Meanwhile, Zane’s? Zane's own room looked like a tornado had given up halfway.
“Why is your room so tidy?!” Zane exclaimed.
“Because I don’t let chaos rule my life.” Aiden looked him up and down. “Unlike you.”
Zane bristled. “My chaos has personality.”
“Your chaos is crying for help.”
Zane opened his mouth to argue- but Aiden plucked the pillow out of his hands and squished his face with it.
“Also,” Aiden added casually, “if you wanted an excuse to visit me, you could’ve chosen something cooler than ‘I got lost.’”
Zane turned tomato red. “I WAS NOT VISITING YOU—”
“Mhm.” Aidem smirked. “Then why are you still in my room?”
Zane blinked.
Right.
Why was he still here?
“That’s what I thought,” Aiden teased, leaning in way too close.
Zane panicked again, grabbed his pillow, turned around-
-and crashed straight into Aiden’s chair, knocking it over.
The sound echoed like thunder.
Aidem laughed so hard he literally fell onto his bed.
Zane, dying inside for the third time in ten minutes, whispered,
“I’m never coming here again.”
“Sure,” Aiden said, wiping tears of laughter. “See you tomorrow.”
“I’M NOT-”
“You will,” Aiden said smugly. “You always do.”
And Zane fled, pillow in hand, dignity left behind somewhere on Aiden’s floor.
.
.
.
