Room For Rent [Dylmas]

Chapter 2

The morning sun drenched my body in warmth. I shuffled, turned, and rolled, but my body won't shut down again. I guess that's that for sleep. I sat up and stretched my arms, followed by my ridiculously long legs.

I glanced to the window, squinting at the morning light. Birds are off chirping as if in a bloody movie, trees are dancing, swaying perfectly with the calm breeze.

Perfect? Is there such a thing? Can something be perfect in this modern world? More so, at this early time of the morning? Well, I would've slept more, that would be near perfect, but my bloody system won't let me!

I huffed, lost in thoughts whilst glaring at a blank space. Until a knock once again disrupted me.

"Hey? Are you up? Uh, sorry for disturbing you. Again. Sorry, uh, but I need to use the bathroom," I stared at the door, too lazy to still move an inch. "Please?" he added.

I almost chortled. I rolled my eyes and got up, unlocking the door. I looked at him and pointed left. "That's the bathroom. Use it quick, yeah? I need it as well."

He beamed and said thanks, immediately running to the bathroom. I crossed my arms, resting my head by the doorframe. Bloody chap's still a mystery to me. He looks young, yeah, so why was he at my doorstep in the middle of night?

Problems. I guess. Well, everybody has them. I just want to know what's his. What, if he's going to be my tenant, I at least need to know something about him.

I used the bathroom after him, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Wouldn't want to make a smelly and bad first impression. Well, if last night's treatment wasn't on the list, then, yeah, wouldn't want it.

I sighed, who am I kidding? I have the least liked personality. I'm lucky enough if that bloke lasts for a week here. I ran my hands through my hair and huffed as a resolve. I just have to be me, come on. If he needs a place, I need money. That's that.

I exit the bathroom and saw him peeking from his room. "Uh, good morning?" he smiled awkwardly.

I nodded then walked past him, heading for the stairs, "Mornin'. I'll make breakfast, while you—" I looked at him and pointed. "—You'll talk."

He gulped and nodded, following me down to the kitchen. He sat down while I poured the two of us some cereal. I set it in front of him. "Breakfast."

"Thank you," he scooped some and ate, no complaints in the least. I devoured my fair share for a while, but decided to just up and talk.

"Tell me your name and age. Where did you come from and why are you renting?"

He stopped eating and looked at me, a glint of fear was there, but he hid it too soon. "I'm Dylan. I'm 19."

"Dylan what?"

"O'Brien. Uh, I'm Dylan O'Brien."

"You're just 19. Why are you knocking at someone's door in the middle of the night, looking for a rent space?"

"Reasons."

"Tell me some," I urged.

"Family problems, I guess. Okay, look. I'm not ready to talk about it, but yeah, more or so, it's about my family. Honestly, I don't have any bad motives. I just need a place to stay. I have my savings and I have a part-time job, so please, just let me stay."

I studied him. His facial expression. His gestures. The way he bites his lips nervous.

I coughed. "Well, that's all I needed to hear. I just hope you'll remain as behave as you are now, so we won't have any problems."

He beamed and I got up, cleaning up our bowls.

Oh.

"One more thing, Dylan," I said.

"Yeah?"

"How long do you plan to stay?"

"I really don't know. A few months? I mean, I'll be needing lots of money to afford a proper house, or apartment. That's why I'm settling on renting rooms..." he looked down. "Is that not okay? I mean—"

I cut him off. "It's okay, lad. Stay for as long as you need to. Just don't forget to pay."

"Yes, thank you! Thank you so much, uh..." he trailed off, waiting for my reply.

"Thomas."

He beamed. "Thomas."