His Room

His room is everything I thought I wouldn't like. Creaky wooden floors. A messy desk. A mattress with a permanent dip on the left side. Miscellaneous posters hung around the room, no rhyme let alone reason. Tangled wires across the floor. A radiator that clicked like a typewriter. Bins with clothes poking out. But I love his room. Because all of that is just the shell of it. His room is laughter and movie nights and sweet, stupid conversations. Board games and popcorn and nights full of sleep. Chaos as we rush to get to class. So I love it.