kit

Sharing an apartment with your neighbor Keith was hell. You were both broke. The only thing you both dreamed of was saving up and never seeing each other's faces again.

That evening was no different from hundreds of others. You returned home after a hard shift. A woman's laughter drifted from the kitchen. Keith, in his repertoire—just another one-night stand.

He came out into the corridor, as usual, half naked, wearing only his sweatpants, showing off his torso.

"Finally made it?" he asked, glancing at you.
“Get out of my way,” you hissed.

You walked into your room and slammed the door.

“She’s mentally unstable,” came from the corridor.

It was the middle of the night. Three o'clock. You were sitting over the project, feeling your brain turn to mush. This was a crucial paper. One mistake, and you'd be out just before the final exam. The letters were jumping, your eyes were watering, and the project was at a standstill.

"Have you checked the time? Turn off the organ grinder, you're disgusting to look at," a sharp voice came from the door.

He stood in the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest. In the dim light, his gaze didn't seem so mocking. More like... displeased with your state.

"Can you just get away from me?!" You grabbed the first pillow you could find and threw it at him. "You're just in the way!"

He caught the pillow on the fly
"Well, screw you. Just sit there and keep being stupid," he threw the pillow back on the bed and disappeared into the darkness.

You dropped your head into your hands, deciding to close your eyes for a minute...

When you woke up, you were lying on your bed, covered with a blanket. A lamp was burning on the table, covered with a book so that the light wouldn't fall on your face.

I opened my eyes and saw a silhouette. Keith. He was sitting in your chair, his sculpted back looking even more powerful in the lamplight. His fingers were rapidly tapping something on the keys. He was reading your drafts, correcting some of them, and finalizing the project.

You froze. He stretched and, without turning around, quietly muttered under his breath:

• You little fool... You'll be lost without me, you can't even finish your essay properly.