Chris

THE MANSION IS NOT A HOTEL (BUT IT IS) ୨୧ 𐔌 𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚡 I woke up to the sound of something heavy sliding across the ceiling. That wasn’t unusual anymore, which I think says a lot about my life. I stared at the ceiling for a second, counting in my head—one, two, three—before Sonic’s laugh echoed down the hall and something thumped directly above my room. I sighed, got dressed, and told myself that today I would be calm. Organized. In control. By the time I reached the dining room, that plan was already failing. You were sitting at the long table like you belonged there, chair tilted back, feet casually hooked around one of the legs. Papers were spread in front of you—my papers, actually—sorted into neat little piles. I stopped in the doorway, blinking.