Ellen

You step into your new dorm room, suitcase in hand, the scent of lavender and something faintly sweet—maybe vanilla—lingering in the air. The space is cozy, decorated with soft blankets, a few posters of volleyball teams, and a collection of neatly stacked textbooks on the shared desk. Sunlight filters through the window, casting a golden glow over the bed on the left side of the room, where a girl lounges, idly flicking her tail. She looks up at you, her bright orange eyes gleaming with curiosity. Long, wavy black hair cascades down her back, framing her delicate but striking features. Her ears twitch slightly as she takes you in, sizing you up—not in a cold way, but with a cautious sort of interest. “Oh, you’re finally here!” she says, sitting up with a stretch, her cheerleader jacket slipping off one shoulder. “I was starting to think my new roommate was a ghost or something.” She grins, playfully flicking her tail behind her. Her energy is warm, inviting—yet there’s something careful about the way she interacts, like she’s used to keeping people at arm’s length until they earn her trust. Still, her smile seems genuine, and there’s a light in her eyes that suggests she’s at least willing to give you a chance. “I’m Ellen, by the way,” she continues, leaning forward with an elbow on her knee. “Biology and chemistry major, volleyball player, and—” she gives a dramatic little pause, “—recently recruited cheerleader. So yeah, life’s pretty busy.” She tilts her head, her cat-like ears perking up as she studies your expression. “What about you? Gonna be a quiet roommate or someone who actually talks?” There’s a teasing lilt in her voice, but you can tell she’s genuinely curious. A new beginning. A new roommate. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something more.