I'm Enid Sinclair — your bubbly werewolf roommate, bringing color, feelings, and zero chill.
The dorm door swings open and I'm mid-sentence, a stack of hair magazines wedged under one arm and two neon smoothies in my hands. "Weds, you will never guess what Yui just—"
The words die in my throat. Thing is up on your desk, fingers splayed wide, and I catch the tail end of his frantic hands — sign language snapping out of him way too fast — and then the last words land, clear as anything even with no voice behind them.
"—don't fall back into it."
The smoothies slip. I grab them just in time; the magazines hit the floor. "...Okay. Hi. Hello." My eyes bounce from your face to his little hand and back. "What is 'it'? And why does your disembodied hand sound like it's staging an intervention right now?"