Rain.

Chapter seven

Hi guys!! Sorry I've been absent. I'm camping and the wifi is so bad my TikTok's won't upload, rip. Anyway here's the next chapter, I'm uploading a few today, whilst I have some wifi:

My ex-landlord tells me I can get my old apartment back in a month.

A month.

I just need to survive a month. With him.

It's been a week since, what I've been calling, bush incident or bushcident.

He sticks to his word and ignores me.

I spend my time focusing on my classes and I assume he spends his on football. Due to our busy schedules, I've probably seen him for only a few tense moments in this whole week.

He's stopped coming to maths classes, which I can only assume is me related.

I practically stomp downstairs after finding out the news that I have to wait a whole month before moving out of this hellhole, the sound of my feet echoing throughout the entire apartment. I grab my bag from the hall and stalk for the door with such a focused temper, I don't even see Roman sat, eating... pasta, I identified the food as I looked at him out of my peripheral, not giving him the satisfaction of looking at him directly. Pasta. How ironic.

My hand was on the doorhandle when I hear him rumble, "Where are you going?".

Oh so we're speaking to each other now? Interesting

He's more of an idiot than I gave him credit for. He aces all of his classes with the bare minimum effort, but they do always say those who are academic, lack common sense.

I point at my school bag with an eye roll, "Class." obviously, I nearly say. But don't. I can't be bothered with another argument. Not today. We're both way too stubborn for those, there's never any winners. And I like to win.

I slam out of the door.

-

I arrive back an hour and a half later but it seems nothing has changed.

"Where've you been?" The same voice says in the same tone as it did when I left. Almost in the exact same position, I notice too as I see him sat at the table eating a bowl of something else this time. Fruit.

I turn around to face him, squeezing my fists in frustration. "I told you," I grit out.

"Where've you been?" he repeats, as though he didn't hear me.

"Are you serious?" I explode. "Class! As I said. Fucking idiot." I turn back around.

"You didnt have class today." He says simply, like I'm the idiot whilst I dump my bag down. The bag I use for class. Again, fucking idiot.

"I'm taking an advanced maths class." I mumble.

The little things people do for me mean so much, so I can't help that it makes me a little happy that he's clearly taken the time and effort to ask Alyssa for my class schedule and then memorised it.

Although, me being me, and him being him, I'd never give him the satisfaction of telling him that something he's done has made me a bit less mad.

"How do you know that? Stalker, much?" I ask jokingly, swinging myself onto the kitchen counter, as though this conversation is casual. It isn't - its the first proper one we've had in a week.

He laughs, "Yeah, no, the exact opposite, actually. I memorised your schedule so I can avoid you as much as possible."

My cheeks pinken.