Your Ginger Housemate (Jerome Valeska X Reader)

11

Your eyelids were heavy, slowly drooping over your eyes, obscuring your vision and taking you to a dreamless sleep... hopefully. Although not eventful, the stress of having your parents stay inflicted over you was immense. The homicidal maniac you harboured every hour of the day was enough stress for a lifetime. Of course, even something as simple as a good nights sleep must, also, be too good to be true. Why? Well, the rain, on the one hand, had begun to pummel onto the roof - you'd never been able to sleep in the rain, yet you still chose Gotham. On the other hand, a figure at the doorway hindered the light you had come accustomed to sleeping with.

'Wait. What?!'

You bolted upright and opened your mouth to shout, but the figure lunged at you, covering your mouth and cutting any sound short. You began to panic, making muffled sounds behind the human muzzle.

"Oh c'mon doll, quit whining. It's me. Who else, huh?"

You smacked his hand away from your face, humiliated and your heart pounding. Of course, it was him. No one else would come up here, not like they'd be able. You felt ridiculous for overreacting. "Jerome, why the hell are you up here? And why the hell are you in my room?" You seethed, acutely aware of how casually he had taken refuge upon your bed.

"Y/n, have you ever tried to sleep in that basement? Hmm?" He tilted his head toward you, and although calm in demeanour, his voice was filled with accusation.

"Jerome, if my parents hear anything in here, they'll come to check on me."

"Don't avoid the question." He sang, bored. He must be really sick of your parental antics. "Wait, what? You are a grown human being whose parents still check on her?"

You sighed, "It's just... their parental instincts. But they will. Honest." Part of you got his point though. Still, he looked at you sceptically. You huffed a sigh once again, "Well, mom anyhow."

Jerome paused for a second and seemed to lose focus on you. He sat there for a few seconds before his attention came back to you. But it was different. Calculating.

Then it was gone. Just like that. Jerome smiled, "Well, you have to admit, that would be pretty funny."

"No Jerome. No, it would not." You still wondered what happened in his head to lose focus so instantly.

Wondering made you remember all your other... wonderings: Tyrone.

"Hey Jerome, since you're here -"

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Have you ever slept in the basement?"

"Uh, no, but I was wondering -"

"Right. Then you would not understand how freaking cold it is down there!"

"No, but... wait. Are you whining? About the cold?" He looked away and eyed you in his peripheral vision. You began to play with this, finally having the upper hand. "You mean to say, the great Jerome Valeska is complaining about not being able to sleep... because it's cold?" You stifled to hold in your giggles after using your voice of grandeur. The ginger folded his arms and scowled. "I'm going to take that as a yes." You struggled to stay quiet, but fits of laughter were harder to hold than you thought. Especially since you could finally direct it at Jerome!
"Oh, this... is too... good!" You struggled to get even a minimal amount of words out as sniggers and giggles escaped your throat.

Jerome looked at you with a sideways glance, quirking his eyebrow.

- Jerome's POV -

"Right, then you would not understand how freaking cold it is down there!"

"No, but... wait. Are you whining? About the cold?"

Maybe she didn't realise it, but it was freezing down there! I turned away from her, scowling.