𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙋𝙊𝙑

19 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙚, 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩.

𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙯𝙮. 𝙄𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙗𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙨.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩? 𝙄'𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙉𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡. 𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.

𝙄 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙭𝙞. 𝙄'𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙈𝙧. 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙘𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙫𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙃𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩.

𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙, 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙-𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙄𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙖 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨.

𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩. 𝘼 𝙗𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚, 𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧. 𝙒𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧.

*𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚.*

**2 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧**

𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙙, 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙨, 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘽𝙖𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙄 𝙖𝙢. 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛-𝙘𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙥, 𝘼𝘾 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙘𝙤𝙯𝙮 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮.

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙖 𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙣. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩, 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙄 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛, 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙣𝙚𝙬-𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙪𝙥, 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮, 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚.

𝘿𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙧. *𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙧𝙖𝙩? 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖 𝙧𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙚.

𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣. 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙬𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣.

"𝙊𝙝!" 𝙄 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙙, 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙮, 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩.

𝙈𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚.

𝙄 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙗𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘, 𝙨𝙬𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢. 𝙄𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩, 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧. 𝘼 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚.

𝙄 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙯𝙚. 𝙈𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙗𝙖𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙨𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙠.

𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢. "𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮—"

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝, 𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡.

𝙒𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙝𝙤𝙡 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙖𝙜. 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙝𝙤𝙡.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮—"

𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 (𝙧𝙪𝙙𝙚, 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙢), 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙩, 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧.

𝙈𝙮 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠. *𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡!!!*

𝙎𝙤 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙.

*𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡!!!!*

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

**Cornelia POV**

I was now sitting with the landlord while the unconscious man remained on the ground, not that I gave a damn.

"Sorry, Cornelia," Mr. Will started. "I know you must be scared about what happened today."

"Get to the point, Mr. Will. Who's that guy?" I said, pointing at his unconscious body.

He sighed. "That guy lying on the floor has rented this house for two years," he said, pausing as he looked at me.

"Two years?" I exclaimed. "What does that have to do with him being here now?"

"See, Cornelia, he's paid to stay here for two years, and he never came once."

"And I said"

"And his rent hasn't expired. There's still a year left on his lease."

"Wait... so you're telling me his rent hasn't expired, and you let me rent the house anyway? Why?"

"Sorry, I don't remember him not coming around, so I thought he'd traveled out of town or even died," he said, glancing at the man.

"Omg, I can't believe this."

"Sorry, Cornelia, but you two can live together until his rent expires," he suggested.

"I can't live with him. I don't know him, and I don't know what he's like," I said, remembering the kiss.

I groaned. That was my first kiss, I thought, glaring at his unconscious body.

And I can't move out, because this is the only house I can afford that's near my school, I thought.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I sighed. "Nothing. I just have to wait for his rent to expire, because there's no way I'm leaving this house for him."

"Okay, that's nice," Mr. Will said, standing up.

"Where are you going?" I asked, seeing him head toward the door.

"I'm going to pick my daughter up from the airport," he said.

"I understand you want to pick her up, but what am I supposed to do with him?" I said, as we both looked at the man.

"I don't know you're the one who knocked him out," Mr. Will said. "You just need to wait for him to wake up and explain everything to him yourself," he said, patting my shoulder and walking out the door.

I sighed in frustration as I sat on the couch. I can't believe this is happening to me.

"Ahhh," I heard the unconscious man groan as he opened his eyes, his forehead furrowing.

"My head hurts," he said, hand on his head.

"Guess he's awake," I said, standing up and walking over to him.

He sat up straight as I crouched down.

His eyes widened. "Who are you?" he said, forehead still furrowed.

I sighed. I didn't know where to start not after what had just happened, with him kissing me, and now the landlord telling me we'd be living together and blah, blah, blah.

I groaned. This was frustrating. I felt like crying. This is going to be the worst year of my life.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

**Cornelia POV**

We were now sitting in the living room as he placed an ice bag on his head.

I explained everything to him the rent situation, the roommate thing, all of it.

He only scoffed. "Why can't you just pack up and leave?" he said.

I glared at him. "What did you just say??? There's no way I'm leaving this apartment," I said, standing my ground literally and figuratively.

"But I'm the one who paid for it first," he said. "And I'm the one who's lived here and still pays for it."

"This is meaningless. There's no way I'm staying with a stranger," he said.

"Me too," I said, still glaring at him. I thought he'd be nice clearly I overestimated him. He's a jerk.

He groaned. "I can't believe that landlord was this foolish," he said, getting up and walking off to who-knows-where.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Away from you," he said, climbing the stairs like he was the wronged party here.

I scoffed. What the hell.

I stood up. "You can't just walk away we're not done," I said, trailing after him like a very annoyed shadow.

"Can't you just keep quiet?" he said, still walking.

What was wrong with this guy? Was this how he planned to treat me like an inconvenience he hadn't ordered?

"Hey, wait!" I said, running in front of him.

"What now?" he said, crossing his arms.

"I know you're kind of annoyed after finding out a complete stranger is staying in your apartment, and that you now have to live with them. And I get it." Then, muttering the last part under my breath: "Considering it's happening to me too."

"So can't we just talk it out and set some rules? Besides, you've only got a year left before your rent's up anyway," I said, raising an eyebrow.

He was quiet, then sighed. "Okay, fine."

"Okay," I said, smiling a little too victoriously.

"Let me just get my pen and notebook," I said, heading into the room while he went downstairs presumably to sulk on the couch like a man who'd lost a war he started.

As soon as I stepped in, I leaned my back against the door and breathed out.

Ahh, that was a relief I actually got him to listen, I thought, walking to my bag for the notebook and pen.

But then I remembered the kiss, and it flashed straight back into my mind.

Ahhhhh, I can't believe my first kiss was with that big-headed jerk-face, I told myself, practically near tears over it.

I groaned, slowly opening the door and looking downstairs he was sitting on the couch already. I groaned even harder. Of course he beat me down there. Showoff.

I walked downstairs and finally sat across from him.

"Okay," I started, "let's make some house rules," offering him a smile.

But his face stayed completely blank unreadable, like a man who'd never smiled in his life. This is getting awkward, I thought.

I wonder what I'll even write, I thought, staring at my blank paper like it owed me answers.

"Okay, let's get to know each other," I said.

"My name is Cornelia Lockwood," I said, offering him my hand. "And you are...?" But he looked at me like I'd just asked him to join a cult.

He didn't even shake my hand. I smiled awkwardly. What the hell was wrong with him, I thought, trying very hard not to glare.

Then he cleared his throat. "I'm Andrew Ashford," he said.

"Wow, what a nice name for someone who acts like such a dick," I said out loud without meaning to.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Did I just think out loud? I thought, shaking my head and saying nothing, laughing awkwardly instead.

"Okay, let's state the rules," I said.

**Rule one:** Knock before entering rooms. Don't borrow stuff without asking.

**Rule two:** If someone's at the desk or on a call, keep volume low no loud music or TV in that zone.

**Rule three:** No guests on beds, no messy food there, and keep your sheets and linens to yourself, since we'll be taking turns sleeping on the bed.

**Rule four:** Clean up right after you use the kitchen, bathroom, or living room.

**Rule five:** Dishes don't live in the sink wash, dry, and put away within 24 hours.

**Rule six:** Trash and recycling go out on schedule. If it's full or smelly, whoever sees it takes it out.

**Rule seven:** Bathroom time limit during rush hours mornings and evenings, 15-20 minutes max if someone's waiting.

**Rule eight:** Guests are a group decision ask first, set an end time, and you're responsible for anything they mess up.

**Rule nine:** Label your food. If it's not labeled "free," hands off.

**Rule ten:** Share costs for shared items toilet paper, cleaning supplies, soap split it.

**Rule eleven:** Communicate issues early. Small annoyances become big fights. Talk calmly before resentment builds.

**Rule twelve:** Don't turn the living room into your personal storage unit.

**Rule thirteen:** Thermostat and light rules agree on a temp range, and turn off lights and fans when you leave.

**Rule fourteen:** Lock doors and windows. Security is everyone's job. Last one out, double-check.

**Rule fifteen:** No parties.

**Rule sixteen:** No immoral acts.

I said that last one as he burst out laughing.

"What??" I said.

"What do you mean by that 'immoral acts'? You think I'm going to do something to you?" he said, looking at me.

But before I could say anything, he added, "You're not even that attractive not exactly my type."

"Excuse me?" was the only thing I could say.

I can't believe this dick wasn't he the one who kissed me?

"You really are a dick," I said.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...