Roommates (A Conan Gray x Fem OC)

millie's pov

when i opened my eyes, the first thing i noticed was the warmth. conan was still next to me, his face peaceful in the soft morning light filtering through his window. his lashes brushed against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, and his hair was a tousled mess, falling into his eyes. he looked... beautiful.

i stayed still, not wanting to wake him. it was rare to see someone look so at ease, like the world wasn't tugging at them from every angle. i couldn't help but stare, my heart doing that stupid little flutter thing it did whenever he smiled at me or laughed at something i said.

but then his eyes fluttered open, slowly, like he wasn't quite ready to let go of sleep yet. when his gaze landed on me, his lips curved into the softest smile.

"good morning," he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

"morning," i murmured back, my cheeks already heating up.

neither of us moved for a while. we just lay there, looking at each other, the silence stretching out like it was something we could hold onto. his hand was resting on the bed between us, so close i could feel the warmth radiating from it. i wanted to reach out, to lace my fingers with his, but i stayed still, my heart hammering in my chest.

"we should probably go see what mess the others are making," i finally said, breaking the quiet.

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. "yeah, we should."

we reluctantly got up, and i tried not to think about how much i missed the weight of his arm draped over me or the way his breath felt against my neck. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame the mess, and i couldn't help but smile. he caught me staring and raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"what?" he asked.

"nothing," i said quickly, biting back my smile.

together, we walked out of his room and down the hall toward the dining area. the closer we got, the louder the noise became—laughter, the clatter of dishes, the faint sound of the tv in the background. when we stepped into the room, it was pure chaos.

emily was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with a spatula in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. the tv was blaring some morning show, and olivia was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching emily like a hawk. madi and iris were sprawled on the couch, laughing at something on the screen, and tate was busy setting up the table, balancing a stack of plates in one hand and a pile of cutlery in the other.

as soon as we walked in, annie's voice cut through the noise. "well, well, well!" she said, dragging out the words in a way that made me want to hide. "look who decided to show up! i could hear you lovebirds all night through the walls. 'oohhh conanananaaaaan!'"

my face went bright red in an instant. beside me, conan froze, his eyes wide, his cheeks matching mine. i sputtered, shaking my head furiously. "it wasn't like that!" i managed, my voice higher than i intended.

annie just smirked, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "sure, sure," she said, waving her hand like she didn't believe me.

"anyway," i said quickly, desperate to change the subject, "what are you doing?"

"i'm making pancakes!" emily said proudly, holding up the spatula like it was a trophy.

"and i'm supervising," olivia added, shooting emily a pointed look, "since i don't trust her."

emily turned to glare at her. "wtf, girl. i literally work in a café."

"yeah," olivia said, raising an eyebrow, "and yet your pancakes look like that." she pointed to the plate on the counter, where a stack of slightly uneven, slightly burnt pancakes sat.

emily gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "how dare you!"

"anyway," olivia said, turning to us with a smirk, "how was your guys'... sleep?"

i groaned, covering my face with my hands. "can we not do this right now?" i mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up again.

conan just laughed, his voice soft and light, and for some reason, that made me feel a little better.

we found seats at the table as emily finished up the pancakes, piling them onto a big plate and bringing them over. tate followed with the syrup and butter, and soon everyone was sitting down, digging in.

"oh my god," tate said, her mouth full of pancake. "emily, these are amazing."

emily beamed, sitting up straighter. "yeah! some people didn't believe in my cooking abilities. oliviaaaa!"

olivia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "okay, okay, they're not bad," she admitted, reaching for the syrup.

conan took a bite and let out a little hum of approval. "these are so good," he said, his eyes lighting up. "seriously."

emily looked like she'd just won an award. "thank you, conan," she said, shooting olivia a smug look.

"so," annie said, leaning back in her chair, "what do you guys want to do today?"

"the plan," annie continued, before anyone could answer, "is a beach day. after breakfast, everyone will go to their houses, grab their swimmers, towels, sunscreen, sunnies, whatever. maybe a spare change of clothes. then we'll meet up at orchard beach. we'll spend the day there, get food, whatever. and then tonight, we're hitting up the bar emily's friend owns. sound good?"

there was a chorus of agreement, everyone nodding as they finished their breakfast.

through it all, conan and i stayed close, our shoulders brushing every now and then. i couldn't stop stealing glances at him—the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way he laughed at something tate said, the way his hand hovered near mine like he wanted to reach for it but wasn't sure if he should.

and honestly, i kind of wanted him to.