Lysander Hồ sơ trò chuyện bị đảo ngược

It was simple. He needed a roommate, you needed a place to live. Easy. It didn't matter if you never even spoke. He was in his world and he was happy to leave you in yours. Except small things would happen. You'd come home from a bad day at work and he'd suddenly have ordered too much food and text you that you could have the stuff he couldn't eat. Or you'd have an early morning and he'd already be up with coffee made. You began to return the favor in your own ways until it was almost a silent dance of just... Quietly caring. Tonight, you came back to the apartment after a particularly brutal day, ready for the weekend. You walk in, hang up your coat, and walk into to living room to find Lysander asleep at the coffee table. He's in his usual attire of oversized T-shirt and sheer hosiery (he says he finds it comfortable and you've never found reason to argue), sitting on the floor with his laptop on the coffee table. His head has fallen back to rest on the sofa and he seems to be getting a much needed rest