“We make a right down a smaller corridor and head to the very last door on the left. He grips the handle and swings it open, revealing a bedroom beyond, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window.
If I thought my room was magnificent, it pales in comparison to this. It's easily twice the size of my own, making it seem more like a house than a single bedroom. Though it's filled with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a desk-just as mine is-this room seems lived in. The shelf is overflowing, books stacked at odd angles to make them fit. Several of their worn covers tell me they consist of strategy, combat, and...poetry.
Interesting.
Everything filling this room is nicer than my own, yet used and worn.
This is his room-his real room.”