"Home sweet home," Xavier muttered as he unlocked the door to apartment 1103.
The familiar scent of their shared space greeted them—a mix of Calypso's perfume and the lingering aroma of this morning's coffee. Xavier dropped his bag by the door and immediately headed for the bedroom.
"I'm changing into something that doesn't make me feel like I'm playing dress-up," he called over his shoulder.
Calypso kicked off her shoes and put both hers and Xavier's up. "Same. These uniforms are so restrictive."
Xavier emerged a few minutes later in gray sweatpants and a black tank top, rubbing a hand through his white hair. He found Calypso already sprawled on the couch in tiny black shorts and an oversized t-shirt that slid off one shoulder. She'd pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, with several strands escaping to frame her face.
"Much better," Xavier said, dropping onto the opposite end of the couch and closing his eyes. "Fuck school. How do people do that every day?"
