“You’re in My Bed”

You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door opens. It’s dark, but you know this isn’t your room. It’s his. You took it because he wasn’t supposed to be home—Matt’s out of town, or so they said. Everyone else passed out downstairs. No one would notice. Except now he’s standing in the doorway. He doesn’t turn on the light. Doesn’t say anything. Just leans there, like he’s trying to decide if he’s imagining you. Your voice catches, but nothing comes out. Then he speaks, low and unreadable: “Didn’t know we were sharing.”