Eliot had one rule in his apartment.
Okay — two.One: no shoes on the couch.Two: no uninvited emotional hurricanes.
Scarlett had broken both by 9:30 AM.
She was lounging barefoot across his worn-out sectional in a designer hoodie and sunglasses she refused to take off indoors. A $9 green juice balanced precariously on his Econ textbook.
"You know that's not a coaster, right?" Eliot said, staring at the condensation slowly baptizing his GPA.
Scarlett didn't look up. "You're lucky I'm not filming this for YouTube. My misery would go viral."
"Why are you miserable exactly?"
She finally looked at him over the rim of her glasses. "Because my ex got cast in a dating show with his new girlfriend — who used to be my hairdresser, by the way — and now everyone thinks I'm the bitter villain with trust issues and a toxicity aesthetic."
"To be fair," Eliot said, "you do lead with eyeliner and spite."
Scarlett tossed a pillow at his face. "That's branding, not personality."
He caught it. Barely.
Then came the knock.
Knock-knock-knock. Sharp. Impatient. Rina-shaped.
Scarlett perked up like a cat spotting a squirrel.
"Oh good," she said sweetly, "the anger issues arc has arrived."
Eliot sighed. "Scarlett, please—"
But it was too late. The door was already open and Rina stormed in, half in gym clothes, half in murder-mode.
"You're living with him now?" she snapped, arms crossed, eyes on Scarlett. "You seriously couldn't find anyone else to crash with?"
Scarlett sipped her juice. "Why would I downgrade?"
Eliot: "Guys, can we not—"
Rina: "You think this is cute? After everything that happened?"
Scarlett (smiling without teeth): "I think it's poetic."
Rina turned to Eliot. "And you. You just let this happen?"
Eliot, deeply regretting waking up at all today, muttered, "I didn't let anything. She showed up with a suitcase and trauma and told me I'm not allowed to make decisions in my own kitchen."
"She really isn't," Scarlett agreed, biting into his leftover croissant.
Rina turned on her heel. "You know what? I don't even care. I hope this explodes again. Maybe this time you'll learn not to collect women like emotionally unstable Pokémon."
Scarlett, still chewing: "I'd be the rare holographic one."
Eliot groaned. "Couch rule number one: no fights before noon."
Scarlett looked at him, eyes gleaming. "What's rule number two?"
"Don't date your roommates," Eliot muttered.
Scarlett's smile widened.
"No promises."