Thinkin' more about Magritte and Rafael because of course I am. Before they were even roommates
Magritte had kinda coerced Raf to meet with her for weekly jam sessions. It wasn't difficult, mind you--Raf was curious enough about her craft (and her attitude towards it) to let himself be convinced to meet with her again. And then again and again. She always ended one meeting by asking if he wanted another--until they just agreed to meet at a specific little studio space every Thursday evening.
It was the only time of the week they'd meet...but it was -every- week. Magritte's assumption was that Raf probably had a billion and one other commitments. Up until that point, she never really had any musician friends that shared her intense fixation for just...playing music--let alone one as clearly skilled as Raf. She had a handful of chums who played instruments, and would delight in playing for an hour or so with her before wanting to do other more interesting things. Raf though--would get just as caught up in playing and discussing music as she--for hours until they were forced to go home when the studio needed to close for the night.
But, on very rare occasion at first, a conversational topic would lead Magritte to ask one question or another--only to have Raf kinda...clam up on her and become uncomfortably despondent for a while without any explanation or indication as to why. He'd get over it that same session, eventually. But...as the months progressed, Magritte would find herself unwittingly committing these unidentified transgressions with more and more frequency--more and more tense, uncomfortable moments between her and Raf--spurred on by something she asked or said that she didn't know was gonna bother him. Innocuous things, things about school, about hometowns, about parents, friends, past gigs, old bosses, shared childhood experiences, etc.
Initially, she was worried that maybe she was prying, or oversharing, or just being generally annoying. Magritte has undiagnosed ADHD, she doesn't -know- she has ADHD. She's lost friends to being "annoying and clueless about it" before. It does a number to her emotional wellbeing every time it happens, and she's become...a little hypervigilant about noticing any shift in people's moods as a result. But... with Raf, she recognizes that it was just as much a case of Raf being kind of, differently, annoying too. She could tell any time she had upset him--he wasn't obvious about it and put an effort to cover it up...but Magritte would pick up on it rather acutely regardless. Upon being asked about it, however, Raf would not acknowledge his upset.
She finally confronts him about it properly after something he mentions prompts her to naturally ask if his dad is a musician--and he responds with that chilly, terse manner she's become so tired of accidentally activating. She tells him, 'okay--you've got some pretty obvious boundaries or smth, buddy. Wanna just tell me what they are so I can stop tripping all over them?' And, to her further frustration, he is reluctant to acknowledge that anything is, or was ever, amiss. Magritte doesn't play this game well, she can't deal with it. She doesn't 'read between the lines', she can't. It's just not something she is capable of. So an ultimatum. He needs to communicate his boundaries or [[vague guesture]] whatever is going on with this, or she's just gonna stop showing up on Thursdays. She's tired of feeling like she fucked something up without knowing what it was she did.
This hits Raf as a suprise. Magritte's response to his behavior isn't something he even subconsciously considered as a potential reaction. He's been so very use to people placating and dealing with his guardedness until they finally wear him down to get what they want from him--before shunting him once he's provided his use to them. But Magritte, despite being the one interpersonal interaction he looks the most forward to every week, had set her own clear boundary with him and refused to take his shit. She didn't want anything from him except his company--and to play music. Music that no one but the two of them would ever hear.
And so, he finds himself forced to admit to her that he just doesn't want to be known.
'So basically,' Magritte reiterates, 'no personal questions. At all.' Okay, she gets why he was reluctant to put that out there--it's a pretty harsh order to deliver to someone you've been seeing every week for the past 3 months. But whatever, she's good with it. She just wants to play music.
And genuinely, it is fine after that. Magritte avoids personal subjects, the conversation isn't made awkward or stilted by it, the music is fun, and...some trust begins to take root. Enough trust that--she recognizes--Raf does slowly, carefully, very deliberately, begin to give Magritte little bits and pieces about himself beyond the amiciabley one-dimensional, carefully curated persona he cultivated for public consumption. And it's fine, each and every time. She doesn't ask to know more, she doesn't press for explainations, she doesn't try to open him up more than he is willing at any point. She doesn't take it personally. And the trust grows.
Eventually, that trust leads him to invite her into his home as a more permanent fixture in his life. As a roommate, just a roommate.