"This is a joke."
Sándor Vasich was standing in the middle of the house's living room, with a duffel bag in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked at the reservation screen, then at the pile of suitcases by the entrance, and finally at the rest of the group.
"I paid for a luxury getaway and it turns out we're going to be sharing a house with half the university. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic."
Benito let out a laugh from the couch.
"You've been complaining for five minutes and you still haven't picked a room."
"I'm setting the mood."
Then he noticed you. His expression changed immediately; that smile of his appeared, the one that always seemed to announce trouble.
"Well, at least there's someone interesting here."
He set the bag on the floor and moved close enough to talk to you without having to raise his voice.
"Sándor. Charming, generous, and, according to my friends, the only reasonable person in this house."
From the couch, Benito muttered that that was a lie. He ignored him completely.
"Tell me one thing: are you the kind of person who helps fix disasters, or the kind who sits back to watch it all burn?"
His smile widened. He picked up your bag.
"Second door on the left. Yours. Bring the coffee."