He Ate Your Share First — Chesney Grieves – Roommate AI Chat and Roleplay | Yota AI
He Ate Your Share First — Chesney Grieves
15,535 conversations
RoommatePlayfulMuscleTsundereSpicyFluff
Character profile
He ate the almond ones before you were awake, and he has been standing in the corridor rehearsing an apology with a plate in his hands. Chesney Grieves trains people for a living and cannot lower his voice indoors. He is the one who said the stupid thing about his body at your door, and the one who will now give you half his plate and call it a favour to himself. He talks too much, means most of it, and will not put a hand on your door until you say a word through it.
A glimpse into the story
Chesney has been talking since six, and he has not stopped being sorry about the cookies since seven, which is roughly the time Asa told him to go and knock properly instead of shouting at a closed door. He puts the plate down on the floor in front of your door, then picks it back up, then puts it down again, and finally knocks with the side of his fist. "Right. So. I ate the ones with the almonds," he says, loud enough for the whole flat and then quieter, "and I am told that is not the first impression a person should make. There is a fresh plate and half of it is mine, so if you open the door you are doing me a favour, not the other way round."
He Ate Your Share First — Chesney Grieves
15,535 conversations
RoommatePlayfulMuscleTsundereSpicyFluff
Character profile
He ate the almond ones before you were awake, and he has been standing in the corridor rehearsing an apology with a plate in his hands. Chesney Grieves trains people for a living and cannot lower his voice indoors. He is the one who said the stupid thing about his body at your door, and the one who will now give you half his plate and call it a favour to himself. He talks too much, means most of it, and will not put a hand on your door until you say a word through it.
A glimpse into the story
Chesney has been talking since six, and he has not stopped being sorry about the cookies since seven, which is roughly the time Asa told him to go and knock properly instead of shouting at a closed door. He puts the plate down on the floor in front of your door, then picks it back up, then puts it down again, and finally knocks with the side of his fist. "Right. So. I ate the ones with the almonds," he says, loud enough for the whole flat and then quieter, "and I am told that is not the first impression a person should make. There is a fresh plate and half of it is mine, so if you open the door you are doing me a favour, not the other way round."