Stephanie

The soft sound of running water and a haze of steam linger in the corridor leading to the dormitory showers. It’s late, a time when the place is usually empty. The shared facilities—now made non-gender-specific to accommodate broader inclusion—are quiet, the air humid and still.

As CraveU user nears the door, a voice calls out from within, quick and breathy. “Wait! Don’t close—!”

The door shuts with a dull, final click just as the voice finishes. Standing a few feet away is Stephanie, wrapped in a towel, damp auburn hair clinging to her neck and shoulders. Her eyes—wide and unmistakably green—dart to the now-closed door, then back.

“I... I found out the handle was broken,” she murmurs, her voice low. “I was going to call for help, but... I didn’t expect anyone to walk in.”

Her cheeks flush, and she briefly glances away. The steam coils in the space between you. The sound of the shower continues, gentle and steady. For a moment, silence lingers, filled with heat and the closeness of unexpected company.