Jasmine's POV
"You missed a spot under the couch, art girl"
I clench my fists tightly while gritting my teeth.
Without snapping back, I walk past him.
Opening the tall cabinets on my tiptoes, I try to reach for my chips.
I can feel his eyes on me, burning deeply into my skull. He's probably enjoying my struggle.
"Do you need help?" His voice is low, holding a chuckle.
Immediately I feel the chip packet, I stuff it into my bag, and storm out of the kitchen.
He better be a visitor.
The apartment was empty upon my arrival from the library, I let out a sigh of relief before entering my room and throwing myself on the bed.
Today was really a long one.
............…..
Dragging the heavy sack of my paintings that I picked up from the dormitory, I enter the apartment.
Thankfully, it's neat and tidied up.
Whoever knew that someday I'll see neatness as a luxury.
It takes almost an hour to set up all my artworks.
Now, I need to go to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee before I complete an unfinished painting which is due in two days.
With my steamy coffee in hand, I stop in my tracks at the scene before me.
He is in my room. Sitting on my bed!
"What are you doing here?" I grit out.
His green eyes hold mine unapologetically.
A smirk plasters on his lips.
"Figured we never got to introduce ourselves" he starts, finally standing up from my bed and approaching me.
"I'm Xavier" he reaches out his hand, but I ignore it.
So we are roommates.
I'm fucked.
I swallow, trying to take it in.
"You don't talk much. Are you like those people who let their arts speak for them because they are this close to being mute?"
I feel my cheeks burn.
Did he just call me mute?
"Get out of my room" I growl.
"Heyyy… take a chill pill. I'm just trying to be nice. You seem to have a good thing going on" he notes, pointing at the array of paintings.
"I doubt someone like you has a good eye for painting"
"Someone like me? Oh I already have a reputation" he muses.
My patience keeps running thin.
"What's your name?"
I don't answer him. I just go ahead to place my coffee on the table, my back turned to him, hoping he'd take the cue and leave.
"You probably added it to your painting," he muses, his voice getting closer. "Maybe somewhere in the corner"
Before I can turn around, he's standing right behind me, peering over my shoulder at the painting of a woman hanging on the wall facing us.
"Jasmine," he reads aloud, his voice deep and gruff. His hot breath fanning against my neck.
"Pretty name, but it contradicts the energy I get from you."
I turn around, our face inches apart. My chest heaves as I softly shove him.
"I said get the fuck out"
He doesn't flinch, instead he runs a finger over the painting, lost, as if in a trance.
"I still can't figure out what this means. A woman, in a shady background, her face is incomplete but I can tell you are done with the painting. I have a friend that's into artworks, I bet he can explain"
He pulls out his phone from his pocket, and tries to take a picture.
Instantly, I slap the phone away, smashing it.
We both stand there, looking at the mess I made. I didn't intend to break the phone, and I can't propose fixing it, I'm low on cash right now.
"Feisty," he smiles, picking up the broken phone.
"I didn't mean to break it" I begin, trying to hold his attention,
"But you can't keep invading my privacy. First, you enter my room, then you sit on my bed, and now, you were just about to take a picture of my painting"
I run my hand through my hair.
Feeling angry and guilty at the same time is overwhelming.
"Well, no need to apologize. It's just sad that my phone broke for a pretty amateur painting. My dog paints better than this" he teases, his smug smile not leaving his face.
I squint my eyes, fisting into my sweatshirt so I don't explode.
With him as my roommate, it's really going to be a long semester.
"You think painting is compared to clumsily bumping into people on the field?" I snap back.
This draws a hearty laughter from him. He is enjoying this.
"Baby girl, at least I own several gold medals for that clumsy action" he retorts.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and approach him.
"I get it. This is your apartment, you literally put up this room for rent"
He smiles, nodding his head with his hand folded across his chest while he looks at me with so much interest, as if watching his favorite show.
"But I paid for it, and it's mine now. More than anything I can't endure one more second with you here, but for us to peacefully live together, we have to set rules"
This seems to entice him more. He continues to hold my gaze, unblinking.
"Rule number one, no entering each other's room, with or without permission. Number two, I can't stand living in a dumpster, so fucking clean up your own mess, in fact don't even make a mess"
"Objection my lord, humans naturally make messes" he taunts.
I rub my temples, trying to concentrate.
"If you have visitors over, keep it down. No loud music, no smoking or drinking, please tell me you don't smoke"
"Where's the fun in that?"
I feel like I'm talking to myself at this point.
"We have to equally share the kitchen space, I have just one cabinet to myself, and it's not enough for me. About the living room, you can have it. One more thing, knock before opening the bathroom"
I cringe at the thought of him doing otherwise.
"There's a limit to how many people can visit you at once, just three. If there's any other rule, I'll add it to a paper, and we'll both sign on it"
He doesn't say anything.
He just walks past me, and stands at the door frame, his green eyes dark with mischief.
"You are cute when you're being a dictator" he muses, that smirk is back on his face.
He glances at my room, and then stops at my face.
With his voice dropping lower, he taunts,
"But just so we are clear, it would be so much fun breaking every single one of them"