ꜰᴏʀᴛɴɪɢʜᴛ - Charles Leclerc

SEVENTEEN - quite like you.

Vivian
Omg
So its basically a 50/50 chance that a rando is gonna open the door

Chiara
😗

Vivian
😐

I rolled my eyes as I turned my phone off, getting ready for the day.

₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

9:52 am
I stood there. Staring at the two-identical doors.

The numbers, 516, and 517 inscribed on them. I bit my lip in thought, wondering which room I'd think Arthur would be in. The thought not crossing my mind, so I did the most logical thing and just prayed that I'd knock on the right door.

*knock, knock*

I waited for a bit; no answer.

I knocked again, this time a bit louder; still, no answer.

I sighed in frustration. I raised my hand to knock on the door once again, until the door finally opened.

A very tired Arthur Leclerc stood before me. He wore different clothes then when he did earlier, his hair was ruffled, and he was clearly still half asleep.

"Good morning," I said as I walked passed him, entering his room.

"Hey!" He turned my way, walking towards me as I began looking around his room.

Nothing was unpacked, his bed was still made but it had an indentation of Arthur's body on it.

"You were really tired," I looked at the bed then at him.

"I still am," he yawned, "what do you want?"

I raised a brow, "we're leaving in an hour, so I came here to wake you up." I went over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone. "Open it."

Arthur raised a brow, "why?"

"Open it."

He rolled his eyes as he unlocked his phone. I turned off DND and in-came the texts and missed calls from Chiara and I.

"Oh."

I rolled my eyes as I plopped his phone onto his bed, also taking a seat there. "Go shower and get changed."

"I already showered, I'm just gonna change." He replied.

I nodded, "I'm gonna stay here for a bit, I don't have anything else to do."

"Is that your excuse to watch me change?"

I made a fake gagging sound, "that's nasty. I'd rather pour alcohol on my eyes than see you half naked."

Arthur smiled as he turned around and grabbed his suitcase, throwing it next to me on the bed.

"Hey! You almost hit me," I flinched as I looked at him in a disapproving manner.

Arthur ignored my comment and began unzipping the suitcase, grabbing a grey shirt and some baggy jeans.

"Est-ce que c'est bon?" He asked.