#saintshen

it isn’t that he wouldn’t have picked saint. in that sense, the ‘luck of the draw’ worked in his favor. it’s more that he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be coupled at all. let him risk being voted off; the whole concept seemed more trouble than it was worth if it left him feeling this sulky. it was just a little shitty to have your first choice pick throw it back in your face. roo hadn’t even done anything wrong, yet! still, he’s trying not to seem too stroppy about the whole thing, lest viewers back home get the horribly off impression that roo had something like ‘feelings’ for henry. “i have rules for the bedroom,” he announces to saint as they shift their few things onto the now-shared bed.  “i’m little spoon. i get most of the covers. don’t wake me up unexpectedly unless you want to be kicked. my safe word is lemonade. and if you have plans to go sleep without me on the beach, at least let me know so i can sprawl in the middle of the bed, as i deserve.” 

it isn’t that he’s looking for saint but, as he happens upon him an impulse sweeps over him that he just can’t resist. the other looks comfortable, sitting on his own in the common room. roo wants to change that. it takes only a few feather-light steps to carry him across the room and he barely gives saint time to register his entrance before he’s vaulting over the arm of the chair and landing primly in saint’s lap.  “surprise,” he giggles, a leg on either side and arms looping around his neck. “i haven’t seen you since the coupling so i figured you’d be missing me.” maybe it’s a little forward, presumptuous. and yet, given their interactions thus far, he figures he won’t be dumped to the floor.