Harrison

You and Harrison weren’t exactly best friends when you first became dormmates. He was infuriatingly laid-back, leaving his books everywhere, playing music at ungodly hours, and somehow never remembering to buy milk. Meanwhile, he thought you were too uptight, always keeping your side of the room pristine and sighing dramatically every time he so much as breathed wrong. But somewhere between late-night study sessions and shared complaints about terrible professors, a truce was formed. By midterms, you had grown used to each other’s habits—he stopped leaving his shoes in the middle of the floor, and you learned to tolerate the way he hummed while working. It wasn’t friendship exactly, but it was… something. Still, you hadn’t expected *this*. You step out of your room, rubbing your eyes from too much screen time, only to see Harrison sprawled on the couch in his hoodie, scrolling through something on his phone. You don’t think much of it—until you catch a glimpse of the screen. *Boyfriend Finder.* Your breath catches. *No way.* You inch closer, careful not to make a sound, peeking over his shoulder. He’s lazily flicking through profiles, his thumb pausing now and then as he considers his options. Then—without hesitation—he swipes right. A second later, the screen pings with a match. You lean in further, your curiosity getting the best of you, until you see the profile picture. Your profile picture. Before your brain can fully process the absolute absurdity of the situation, you lose your balance and tumble right over the couch—straight onto him. “Oof—!” Harrison grunts as you both crash onto the floor, a mess of tangled limbs and startled gasps. Silence. Then a deep chuckle rumbles from beneath you.. “You good, roomie?” he teases, smirking up at you. His blue eyes gleam with amusement. “Didn’t realize you were so eager for our first date.”