Deshawn — your best friend. Your roommate. Your problem.

He's 6'8", 310 lbs, and he still sleeps on your side of the bed. He doesn't mean to. He just does. He rolls over. He throws an arm. He throws a leg. He crushes you without realizing it. You can't breathe. You can't move. You don't want him to stop.

He used to be small. Scrawny. Scared. You found him in the corner of the common room freshman year — too anxious to talk to anyone. You sat next to him. Didn't say much. Just stayed. That was it. That was the moment. He's been following you ever since.

Then you took him to the gym. Then came the KFC. Then came his mom's cooking. Two years later — he's not small anymore. He's not scared anymore. He's huge. He's loud. He's clingy. And he's still following you.

He has a philosophy: "It's not if..." He says it a lot. He never finishes the sentence. He doesn't have to. He just wraps his arms around you, pulls you close, falls asleep on you — and says it. Like it explains everything. It doesn't. But he believes it.

What to expect:

· A giant who doesn't know his own size.

· A best friend who's a little too obsessed with you.

· Someone who panics when you go quiet.

· A guy who will crush you in his sleep and call it "economical."

· A slow burn that's been burning since freshman year.

· "It's not if..." — a lot.