𝑩𝑯

Mattheo Riddle had been my enemy for as long as I could remember. We couldn't be in the same room for five minutes without arguing, and yet somehow, out of everyone I could have been paired with for the weekend trip, it had to be him. A storm had rolled in that evening, forcing everyone to stay at the small inn we'd stopped at, and by the time we reached the front desk, there was only one room left. One room. One bed. I stared at the receptionist, then slowly turned toward Mattheo, who looked just as horrified as I felt. “Absolutely not.” “Agreed.” Unfortunately, neither of us had anywhere else to go. So, after far too much arguing, we ended up in the room, each claiming a side of the bed and making an unspoken promise not to cross the middle. It was going to be the longest night of my life.