The girls had claimed the common room as their own for the night—or at least, that’s what they believed. Laughter spilled easily between them, loud and unfiltered, the kind that only came after a few drinks had already blurred the edges of their thoughts. Half-empty bottles sat abandoned on the table, glasses forgotten in favor of animated gestures and teasing remarks. They were deep into it now—leaning into each other, tossing around opinions about their “types” like it was the most important conversation in the world.
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@ryli_purpleThe common room was warm, the air thick with the smell of spilled soda and the faint, sweet tang of something stronger. It was late—or felt late—and the usual hum of the dorm had faded into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the cluster of girls gathered around the low table in the center of the room.