ᴛᴇɴ

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I couldn't move in here even if I wanted to

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I couldn't move in here even if I wanted to. And after seeing his house, I sure as hell want to. Not for his sake, but because this is a dream. Literally.

When I was younger, I used to dream of living in a house like this. The exterior would have been brighter and not made of black colour, but still. It's fancy.

And that's a reason why I don't belong here. This house is the richest of rich I could think of, and I'm not. I simply don't fit in here.

I grew up in a two bedroom apartment. I shared one room with my five years older brother. I spent more nights sleeping in my mum's bed, when I was a nine- to ten-year-old, than in my own. Simply because my brother had a friend over and didn't want me there.

And after that, age ten and older, I still had to sleep anywhere but my bedroom. I understand why Cody avoided me meeting his friends, it's always been for my sake, but that doesn't make me never sleeping in my own bed any better.

Living here would make me feel bad. I didn't do anything to afford it. This isn't my achievement. I didn't work hard enough yet to be able to afford a house like this.

"Do you live here on your own?" I ask. Maybe it's a rather stupid question, but I suppose it's something I should know of. If my child is going to spend time here, I should know if he's dating someone and lives with them.

Mr. Storm blinks at me, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. Yet he still doesn't give much away. All he ever allows himself to show others is strictness. Frowns over frowns.

Some people eat a clown for breakfast, he makes deals with the devil each morning.

"Do you count animals as 'living with someone?'"

"Please don't tell me you keep lions in your backyard!" I press my eyes shut, shivers running down my spine just imagining one of those animals being close to me. "Or even worse, tarantulas!"

As my eyes open again, I catch Mr. Storm shake his head, slowly lifting his hand up to his mouth. He presses his index finger to his lips, staying silent for a moment.

"Sierra, I don't have a lion, nor do I keep spiders as a pet. I do, however, own a dog."

Okay, that's good. No animals that would send me into some shock and leave me dying when I look at them. That's truly a relief.

"A dog?" Let's just hope I don't sound too excited. I love dogs. Dogs are great. And cute. And cuddly. Why am I more excited to see my boss's dog than being in a mansion like this?

Honestly, fuck it. I am excited. So be it.

"Where is it? Why didn't you mention a dog way earlier? You're telling me I could've cuddled a dog this whole time?!"

I jump off the barstool, excitedly walking over to Storm. I grab onto his arm, pulling him off his seat so he could show me where he's hiding that fluff ball of a dog.

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