A Hate-Love Relationship || TypeTharn

2: My (Hot) New Roommate

A/N: Casual reminder - This story follows the major plot points of TharnType the series with few drastic changes. So, expect some familiar script and detailed exploration of in between scenes etc. until the story deviates from canon. Thank you!

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"...I'm Tharn."

The blindingly pretty freshman brings his hands together respectfully in a short Wai and finishes introducing himself. An infectious smile playing on his dark pink lips both reels in and jars my stupor away.

The single piercing on his left ear as well as the slope of invitingly pale column of neck immediately catches my eye and so does the strangely prominent veins on his thin hands, among other arresting things. Those thick eyebrows and warm brown orbs deserve a special mention. Everything about this guy is worth mentioning and unmistakably phenomenal akin to how a god walking among mortals is discernible.

And it's easy to guess which Greek god (certainly sculptured like one!) he would be in that case – either Aphrodite (even if historically it has always been a goddess of love) or Hades (come on, the amount of people who lost and are willing to lose their hearts and souls for this level of perfection speaks for itself) for sure.

It is quite literally impossible to avert my gaze away from him – must have positively been in middle of a hypotonic trance – just trying to subconsciously commit his supernaturally striking face to my memory. I keep forgetting to blink if the rapid dryness and burning sensation in my eyes is of any evidence.

I nod dumbly, acknowledging his greeting with great difficulty (in my defense, he's got a magnetic presence, features, fuck everything and I might as well be fucking iron, okay) when long drilled instincts finally kick in. Dragging my feet that had nothing to do with my dazed senses (nope), I dump the recyclable boxes on the empty bed closest to the door.

"Um...Is this my bed?" I ask, uselessly.

Well, who else will it belong to Type - you idiot, if the skinny guy is over there standing by the other remaining, single cot in this room? Its two students per room, not a free for all fucking open party at the club, asshole.

Shit! What is wrong with me? If I don't get my bearings straight this person will think I'm a special snowflake, riding the short bus. 

And somehow, the notion of being falsely labeled as an idiot by this teen (my roommate) doesn't sit well with me. As an athletic and a short-fused one at that, it's pretty common for me to be branded as all brawn and no brains package. What can I say? People love to constantly stereotype others and act mighty offended when they receive the same treatment. Still, I'm far from stupid – acing every class with an ease that's got Techno convinced I pulled some dirty tricks since we both keep lazing around before exams and yet, I'm always coming out with the top scores unlike him.

Anyways, the point is ... too bad, I'm already being overshadowed by this ethereal being before I could barely blink and get a word in; there's no way I'll lose my face near him if I can help it. Although, one positive thing about this whole mess is I absolutely have no reasons to worry about gay shit. Guy this freaking handsome will have no trouble getting girls which means he will not be interested in chasing after guys and in extension, me. Besides, his lean punk ass is no match for my strong sports-trained, toned body. So I'm safe either way.

"Yes." The subsequent answer is to the point and his honeyed tone devoid of any (deserving) judgment.

My unexpected respect and appreciation for this guy raises another notch as humility gets added to the growing list of his impressive qualities.