Gray, dressed in pajama pants, fuzzy slippers, and his favorite t-shirt, shuffled into the common room still rubbing sleep out of his left eye. "Oh, good morning--" Wait. No. Wrong. "Bonjour, Amicia."

Gray dragged his hand through his hair, making his curls even messier than they had been before. Permanent bedhead, right here. "//I always do,//" he sighed. "//Are you getting along okay this morning?//" Wait, that was pretty new slang. "//Uh, all right?//"

"//Yes, they're very good,//" Gray assured her, and, because they were speaking French and Graham wouldn't hear to have his feelings hurt, "//but waffles are better.//" Both were probably a lot sweeter than she was used to, but Gray's sweet tooth could eclipse the sun, so he didn't think about that. "//Graham is my--//" Hang on, Gray needed to look up another French word on his phone real quick. "//He's my roommate.//"

"//You're lucky, then,//" Gray told her. "//I mean--Graham is a great roommate! And he has Triumph, even if he won't bring him to our room." Making a lot of sense there, Gray. "//Most of us do have to share, though, I think. It's to build character or something.//"