Reckless Roommates

7

Monday morning was orientation day, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. Classes started tomorrow, and today, I felt like it might be a waste of time. According to the school's website, orientation was when people made friends. 

Lately, it felt like I had no one on my side. I'd lost about ninety percent of my friends after graduation, and the one friend I had left was the one I couldn't face because of how I wronged him. I slept about three hours last night, which was better than the night before. After brushing my teeth, I headed downstairs to make some breakfast.

I hoped I wouldn't run into Eugene. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me or why I was acting strange around him, but I needed to calm down. He wasn't just my brother's friend—he was also my roommate. 

After staying up all night thinking about it, I realized I didn't want any drama here. If I tried anything with Eugene, the drama was inevitable. This was supposed to be a fresh start, not a repeat of what happened back home.

The smell of coffee greeted me as I walked into the kitchen. I've never been a coffee drinker, but right after high school, I became obsessed with the smell. I often found myself stopping mid-stride just to sniff the aroma whenever someone was brewing it. I guess I hadn't outgrown the habit because I found myself heading to the coffee machine. I pulled out the drip tray, brought the cup close to my nose, and took a deep sniff. Strange, but satisfying.

"What are you doing?" a deep voice asked.

I turned to see Eugene standing there, a small smile on his lips and an eyebrow raised, holding a cup of coffee.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, hoping my face didn't betray any embarrassment. "I just like the smell of coffee."

"Oh, that's normal," he replied, taking a deep whiff of his coffee for emphasis. "I do it too."

"Do you want me to make you a cup?" he asked. I wasn't sure if he was joking or serious, so I didn't answer. Instead, I walked to the fridge and grabbed some eggs. I wasn't usually a breakfast person, but today, I felt like I could take on the world like everything that had been weighing me down was suddenly manageable.

As I fried my eggs, I noticed Eugene making another cup of coffee. His yawn reminded me of last night—how we'd caught each other staring, and he hadn't come back until around 2 a.m. I wanted to ask if he'd slept okay, but I was trying to keep my distance.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asked, breaking my thoughts.

"Four creams, four sugars," I said, hoping he hadn't noticed me sneaking glances at him.

Without hesitation, he started adding cream and sugar to a fresh cup of coffee. He handed it to me just as I finished plating my eggs. "Here, try this. Is it how you like it?"

I took a sip, the sweet, creamy warmth hitting my tongue. It was perfect. I nodded. "Thank you."

"Not too sweet?" he asked.

"No, it's perfect. I don't get how people drink black coffee. The smell's great, but it tastes too bitter."

Suddenly, Eugene grabbed the cup from my hand and took a sip from the spot where my lips had touched. I froze, surprised. Wasn't that like an indirect kiss?

"Yeah, too sweet for me. I'll stick to my black coffee," he said, handing the cup back before heading upstairs without another word.

I stared at the cup, a little dazed. Shrugging it off, I made some toast and set aside a plate for my brother. It didn't take long for William to come downstairs. Seeing me at the kitchen island, he stopped and asked, "Where'd you get the eggs?"

"From the fridge," I replied, biting into my toast.

"Shit, Bree, those aren't mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't done any grocery shopping since I got back," he said but still took the toast and eggs I'd set aside for him.

"Then whose stuff did I take?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"Probably Eugene's," William said nonchalantly.

I winced. Eugene had watched me take his food and didn't say a thing. Embarrassment washed over me, but it was too late now.

"But he didn't say anything," I mumbled.

"Because he probably doesn't care," William reassured me between bites. "Don't worry about it. I'll do some shopping later, and we can replace what we used."

After finishing breakfast, I cleaned up and headed upstairs, but the thought of using Eugene's food without permission still bothered me. I knocked on his door.

When he opened it, he was shirtless. For the third time, I saw his well-defined muscles, and I wasn't about to complain. He clearly took care of himself.

"I didn't know the stuff in the fridge was yours," I stammered.

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "It's fine."

"No, really, I should've asked. That was rude of me."

"Breeze," he said softly, and for a moment, I froze. It was the first time he'd said my name. Normally, I correct people and tell them to call me Bree, but the way he said my name was... different. Soft, tender. I didn't want to correct him.

"It's okay. I don't care," he reassured me.

I stood there, unsure of what to do. He had already brushed it off, so insisting further might come off as weird. I nodded and walked away. We'd just replace what we borrowed, like my brother said.

Back in my room, as I was changing, my phone pinged. I picked it up to see a message from Tom.

"Today's orientation day. Hope you have fun," it read.

I hadn't spoken to Tom in a while, and I didn't know how he knew about the orientation. A small smile tugged at my lips, but just as I was about to reply, regret and sadness hit me.

I left the message on read and didn't respond.