Chapter 10: Terms and Conditions
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I read it once, then again because there was no fucking way this was happening right now. They didn’t clarify though. If anything, they grew more ridiculous the longer I stared at them.
I lowered the paper a bit, meeting his gaze with a look that I knew said enough. He was already watching me, expression completely unreadable, as if he was anticipating this reaction and knew it wouldn’t matter.
"You’re... serious?" I asked.
"Completely," he replied without a beat.
For a moment, I just stared at him. Looked at the paper. Looked back at him, trying to figure out where in this exchange anything made logical sense, but came up blank.
Then a laugh escaped me, quick and disbelieving, more of a reflex than anything else. It wasn’t funny, exactly; it was just the only reaction my brain could muster that didn’t involve saying something I’d regret on my first night here.
No way, where was absolutely no way this guy was real!
"Wow," I said with a laugh, shaking my head slightly as I let the paper drop to my side. "You’re pretty uptight, aren’t you?"
He offered no response.
He simply looked at me, the way you would at something mildly annoying, like a weather forecast you had already accounted for, with no particular feelings about it.
His gaze was steady, unimpressed, just sharp enough to make it clear he wasn’t finding anything funny about this situation, and for a moment, I wondered if glaring was just his default setting. Like his face simply forgot how to express anything else.
A small laugh slipped out before I could help it.
"Okay," I muttered, lifting the paper again with a casual flick of my wrist. "Whatever you say, bruh."
I turned back to my stuff, shaking my head slightly as I resumed unpacking, the list of rules still nagging at the back of my mind like something I hadn’t quite figured out how to process yet.
It was absurd, completely absurd. And yet I didn’t throw it away. Instead, I folded it neatly, placing it on the edge of my side of the room like a part of me understood that, ridiculous or not, he wasn’t joking. That was crystal clear. Whatever this was, he meant every word.
The silence came back after that, settling in like an old friend. But I wasn’t good at just sitting in silence, not like this.
Not when it felt like it was pressing against my thoughts, begging to be released.
"So," I started after a moment, keeping my voice light as I took a shirt from my bag and shook it out before folding it again. "What are you studying?"
No answer. No surprises there...
I shot a glance over my shoulder. He was already back in his chair, completely engrossed in the book in front of him like I hadn’t even spoken. Like my voice was just background noise.
I rolled my eyes slightly.
"Alright, cool," I continued anyway, unable to stop once I started. My mouth has never been great at reading a room. "Not a talker. I can roll with that."
Still nothing, I shifted another shirt into place, glancing around the room again, letting my words fill the space whether he wanted them there or not. It was a habit, if I was honest...filling the silence to make it feel less like a wall.
"How long have you been living here?" I asked. "Is Preston Hall always this quiet? Because it’s like a graveyard. No people, no noise...no one even arguing in the halls. It’s kind of... unsettling but fancy at the same time."
A page turned behind me, that was it. One page, like punctuation.
I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair as I leaned back, trying to release some tension in my shoulders.
"At my last place, you could hear everything," I added, my tone becoming lighter, more conversational even though it was clearly one-sided. "Someone laughing at three in the morning, some argument about whose turn it was to clean the bathroom, random music blasting from who knows where. It wasn’t great, but at least it felt like people lived there."
I paused, folding a pair of jeans. "Like the building had some character. You know?"
Another page turned, I stared at the back of his head for a moment, at the way he sat completely still, not fidgeting or doing any of those little unconscious things people do when they’re pretending not to listen.
Maybe he really wasn’t listening. Maybe I had already been filed away as irrelevant, and that was that.
"Do you always study this early?" I asked finally, my voice carrying a hint of curiosity now, something genuine under all the chatter. "I mean, most people wait until exams are breathing down their necks before they crack open a book."
This time he replied.
"Rule five and six."
That was it, two words. No explanation. No elaboration. Just enough to make his point crystal clear and nothing more. A response so minimal it almost felt impressive.
I stopped...for a moment, I stood there, processing it, replaying it in my mind, checking if I somehow missed a second part that never came. Then I let out a slow breath as I shook my head.
"Right," I muttered under my breath. "Of course."
I turned back to my bag, focusing on unpacking again, my movements quieter now, more contained. The urge to keep talking was still there, buzzing just beneath the surface, but I shoved it down and let it settle.
Rich people really do have a stick up their butts.The thought hit me uninvited, settling in my mind with just enough bite to make me exhale through my nose before I could stop it. I didn’t even feel guilty about it.
I didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to fill the silence again.
Instead, I concentrated on what I was doing, going through the last of my things, putting them away in a space that still didn’t feel like mine. Maybe it wouldn’t for a while. Maybe it never would.
At some point, without really thinking about it, I shifted slightly to reach for something near the edge of the room where our spaces blurred together. There was no clear line on the floor, no tape or marker, nothing visible to indicate where I couldn’t go, so I hadn’t even thought to be careful.
"Move."
The word came out of nowhere, sharp and immediate despite being quiet. Not loud. Not aggressive, just absolute.
I froze, looking down and realizing too late that I had crossed a faint line he had drawn with a chalk without saying a word. An invisible boundary he could clearly see, while I was expected to sense it through some kind of unwritten rule.
Like dude, chill out!
"Right," I said quickly instead, stepping back without argument. "My mistake."
I adjusted my position, moving my belongings back into my designated area, suddenly far more conscious of how intentional everything had to be here. Every movement, every inch.
I let out a quiet sigh, straightening up to glance around the room one last time before running a hand through my hair again. The fatigue that had crept in earlier felt heavier now, sitting behind my eyes.
Yeah, this was not going to work.
Or maybe it would, just not in the way normal roommate situations go.
I picked up the last of my things and set them down neatly, stepping back into my area as I mentally adjusted to the reality in front of me.
With one last look at Damien, watching him remain as he had the entire time, focused, unmoved, utterly unaffected by my presence, like a wall indifferent to the weather outside...I turned away again, settling onto my side of the room with a soft exhale.
No point in trying to get to know him, not like this.
Not when he clearly had no intention of making this more than just a shared space separated by invisible walls.
Besides...there was a reason I didn’t like him and something told me that reason wasn’t going away anytime soon.