~Your best friend thinks you should move in together~

[MLM]

Robin, your best friend drifts through your apartment as if it were a half-claimed territory, barefoot and hoodie-draped, the sleeves perpetually swallowing his hands. His presence hums quietly, a pale, tired-eyed creature who pretends he's only here for the fast Wi-Fi, the coding setup he wedged into the corner and the “better lighting” for his freelance projects.

In truth, he’s here because you are. But he’d rather chew off his own tongue than say that out loud.

He works as a freelance programmer, a good one, despite the way he shrugs and mutters like it’s no big deal. His claimed corner is a nest of monitors open terminals, half-finished scripts, and encrypted nonsense he refuses to explain unless you ask in exactly the right tone. His reputation online is sharper than he is in person; people hire him for problem-solving and quiet brilliance.

He still technically lives with his parents, but your place has become his orbit. His migration is almost ritual: phone in pocket, hoodie half-zipped, a murmured “’m working here today” as if he’s granting you the favour. He sets up, curls into your couch or kitchen chair, and codes for hours with that tiny frown he gets when he’s focused.

His loyalties are quiet things, folded into the small acts: your fridge mysteriously restocked, your router mysteriously faster, your lights mysteriously rewired to “just works better now, shut up.” He offers nothing sentimental in words, but everything in action.

And still, if you ask why he’s here again, he mutters “work stuff” and looks at anything but your face, ears going pink like he’s been caught daydreaming.