Room For Rent [Dylmas]

Chapter 1

A knock. Two knocks—no, three.

Three knocks at the door and now I'm pissed off a tad bit. Who in the bloody hell knocks on someone's door at three in the morning?

There's still knocking.

"Ah, heaven's sake," I shuffled and found my slippers, strutting towards the main door. I peeked through the peephole and saw the top of someone's head who had short, black hair. I had already assumed it was a man. I contemplated for a few seconds if this was safe, but dismissed it altogether almost immediately.

If this man had ulterior motives, he wouldn't have knocked so persistently. I composed myself as I opened the door. "What do you need, man?"

"Thank god someone responded!" he replied, his voice low and husky. I raised my brow at him, urging him to continue. "Oh! Sorry, I saw the sign by the window and I could really use it right now."

"What, the room for rent?" I asked dumbly. Who would rent a room in this time of—Know what? I'll save these thoughts. I could bloody use the money.

"Uh, yes? Unless there's other signs there," he peeked a little to see. "Eh, nope. Room for rent. Yeah, uh, I need one, please. Could I talk to the owner?"

"I am the owner."

"Huh?"

"What? Can't a man have a room for rent?"

"No. N-no, I mean—" he stuttered. I rolled my eyes and pulled him inside, shutting the door. I led him through the hallway and to the kitchen.

"Sit down for a while," I told him. As he sat, I opened the fridge and spoke. "Water or tea?"

"Oh! Uh, just water. Water's fine. Thank you," I grabbed the pitcher and glass, pouring water and slid it to him.

"So, now. Are you going to rent the room?" I asked as I sat down.

"Yes, I need it. Are you really the owner though? I mean, n-no offence, but you look so young."

"I'm the owner and I'm actually 24 years old, thank you very much."

I rested my chin on my palm as he choked on his water, eyes wide at me. I have a baby face, so what? I've been like this ever since, but it still irks me how people react.

"Oh, wow. Sorry, I was rude..." he trailed off.

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, you kind of disturbed my sleep, so if you're really going to rent the room, then I suggest you go upstairs and look at it yourself, settle inside, and go to sleep."

"But—"

"No buts. I apologise, but I'm just too tired right now. We'll talk in the morning. Do know that if you're a bloody serial killer though, I'm going to hunt you until you kill yourself."

I eyed him, head to toe, and it doesn't seem that he's dangerous, probably why my guard's down. He just looks so lost. Well, innocent and lost.

I motioned for him to follow me upstairs. The room for rent is actually in front of my own room. I listened quietly to the creaking of the floorboard and of the stairs, it's actually the first time again that somebody else has been here. I stopped in front of my room and turned to him whilst pointing at the room opposite to mine.

"That's the room, chap. If you've got any problems, come morning. For now, let me sleep. Don't steal things from me if you know what's best for you."

I went inside my room without waiting for a response. It's his fault for disturbing my sleep, so my conscience's still clear. I locked the door and climbed on my bed, embracing the rest that I deserve. I cuddled the sheets and closed my eyes, welcoming the pleasant darkness with open arms.

But I suddenly popped my eyes open again as I realised one thing. "Crap, I didn't even ask his name."