Knock.
Knock.
The sound echoed through a room that could only be described as aggressively pink. Everything from the bedspread to the fluffy carpet screamed feminine luxury, perfectly befitting an elite student at this prestigious academy. The young girl perched on her ridiculously oversized bed—surrounded by an army of plushies ranging from enormous teddy bears to tiny pandas—frowned as she paused mid-nail painting.
She wore comfortable shorts and a cozy pink hoodie, her purple hair twisted up in curlers while she concentrated on what she considered her masterpiece: a brand-new nail art technique she’d been dying to try. Today was supposed to be her day. She’d specifically turned down her friends’ invitation to hang out just so she could have this moment of peaceful perfection.
"What could that be?" she muttered to herself, clearly annoyed by the interruption. She glanced at her unfinished nails with the devotion of an artist whose canvas had been disturbed.
The knock had already done damage. In her startled reaction, she’d knocked over the first color she was mixing, watching in horror as it spilled across the nail work on her left hand—two whole hours of meticulous effort ruined in an instant.
"Okay, deep breath," she whispered to herself, trying to channel some zen. "I won’t kill someone over this. It’s just nails. It’s not like I wasted precious shopping time or anything. Totally fine. Deep breath..."
Knock!
KNOCK!!
The sound grew more insistent, and her eye twitched dangerously.
"WHO IS THAT IDIOT?!" she exploded, rushing to the door in her fury. In her rage, she’d completely forgotten about the face-smoothing cream that was currently hardening into a white mask across her features, or the fact that her purple hair was still bristling with curlers.
Click!
She yanked the door open, ready to unleash her wrath, only to find herself face-to-face with a young man sporting silver hair and striking purple eyes. He looked remarkably calm for someone who’d just encountered what appeared to be a very angry, very white-faced creature.
"Hi," he said simply, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
"H-huh?" she stammered, her brain struggling to process this unexpected development.
"I’m your new roommate," he continued.
Her brain completely short-circuited. "What?"
"I was assigned to this room. Since you’re already here, I assume you’re my roommate." He spoke.
She let out a laugh—high-pitched, awkward, and slightly hysterical. "Ahaha... haha... ha..."
BAM!
The door slammed shut so hard it rattled the frame. She quickly turned the lock and pressed her back against the door, eyes wide with panic as she took in her thoroughly feminized domain.
"Oh no. Oh no, no, no..."
Everything was pink. Aggressively, unapologetically pink. The bedspread, the carpet, the curtains—even the bed that was supposed to belong to her mysterious roommate had been claimed and decorated in various shades of rose and fuchsia. She’d been treating this place like her personal kingdom for so long that she’d completely forgotten someone else was supposed to live here too.
Her gaze landed on the corner where her roommate’s wardrobe was supposed to stand. Instead, there sat her vanity table with its large mirror, overflowing with cosmetics, skincare products, and hair accessories. She’d basically colonized the entire room.
"This is a disaster," she groaned, then caught sight of herself in the small mirror beside her bed. The white face mask had hardened completely, making her look like some sort of beauty treatment ghost. "Oh my god, I still have this on?! He must think I’m completely insane!"
She pulled at her hair in embarrassment, accidentally getting some of the loose strands caught in her mouth. After spitting them out with as much dignity as she could muster, she looked around with the determined expression.
"Okay, emergency room makeover. I can do this."
She rushed to what should have been his bed and began yanking off the pink bedspread with such force that she tumbled backward, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Scrambling back to her feet, she surveyed the plushie situation with growing horror.
One or two stuffed animals? Cute and normal. Three or four? Still acceptable for a girl her age. But she had counted at least fifteen just on this bed alone, ranging from a panda so large she could barely lift it to a collection of tiny kittens that seemed to multiply every time she looked away.
"Why did it have to be a guy this time?!" she wailed, remembering her previous roommate—a quiet girl who’d actually complimented her plushie collection and even contributed a few of her own.
But guys didn’t understand the therapeutic value of being surrounded by soft, huggable creatures. They’d probably think she was childish or weird. She couldn’t have that.
Moving with the efficiency of someone defusing a bomb, she gathered armfuls of plushies and rushed them to the corner of her side of the room. The giant panda required a special trip, during which she had to waddle awkwardly while maintaining her grip on its oversized form.
Next, she tackled the dining area, where a massive teddy bear had been holding court at the table. She grabbed it along with several other comfort items she’d strategically placed around the common areas.
A quick raid of the kitchen yielded more evidence of her territorial expansion—specialty teas, fancy snacks, and a collection of cute mugs that definitely didn’t belong to academy standard issue.
Back in the main room, she dumped everything into the designated corner and pulled out her spatial ring. With practiced efficiency, she began making items disappear one by one.
She paused at the centerpiece carpet. It was pink, but subtly so. Maybe he wouldn’t mind? She decided to leave it as a compromise between her aesthetic and basic roommate courtesy.
Her vanity table posed the next challenge. The mirror was too large to move easily, but she managed to relocate it to her side of the room and carefully rearranged her beauty supplies. Everything had to look intentional, not like she’d been slowly taking over the entire space.
Finally, she rushed into the bathroom to assess the damage. The face mask peeled off easily enough, revealing her natural complexion underneath. She removed the curlers with quick, practiced movements, letting her purple hair fall in soft waves around her shoulders. Her red eyes stared back at her from the mirror with newfound determination.
"Okay," she said to her reflection, straightening her hoodie and checking for any remaining evidence of her beauty routine. "Let’s try this again. How hard can it be to make a normal first impression?"
She walked back to the door, took a deep breath, and reached for the handle.
Time to meet her new roommate. Again.
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A/N-Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation! Also, if you have enjoyed the story so far perhaps you can try dropping a review, the author would appreciate that, thanks!
And also, I would love powerstones!
Villain, out!
The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!