Roommate Roulette

6 | Paradisal Disaster

{~Evelyn~}

I swear I'm going to kill this man.

I've been living with Grayson for two weeks and I already couldn't stand him.

He seemed to be everywhere I went. I was going to the store to find him in the dairy aisle. Maybe if I ignored him he wouldn't realise I was there. 

Grayson glanced over his shoulder like he could sense me staring and I immediately whipped around to pretend I was looking at some incredibly interesting fish. Their dull eyes bore into mine as if they were trying to tell me something. Coward  was probably one of the things they were trying to communicate.

"Hey, pervert." I heard his voice become closer.

"Hi." I said, flatly.

"What's so special about dead salmon?" His hot breath brushed over the top of my ear. I turned around to find him a few inches away from my face.

I spluttered, trying to find an answer. "Um, I- oh, shut up." I whacked his arm, walking away to hide my reddening face as he smiled. "It's not funny." I peered into one of the fridges, it's insane how something so simple could intrigue me.

"It kind of is." He grabbed a bag of milk beside me and put it in his cart.

"What the heck?" I pointed at the bags of milk. "They come in bags? Not cartons?" I asked, baffled.

"What does it look like to you, smart-ass? Oh yeah, these are totally cartons." He said sarcastically, moving on to the carbs.

I rolled my eyes, done with this conversation. "I hate you." I couldn't stop my words from tumbling out. I urgently pointed at something down the aisle as I dragged Grayson by the wrist, with his cart behind him. "Look, look, look!" 

"What, what, what?" He asked sarcastically, almost ramming the cart into us as I stumbled to a stop.

"You have so many tomato sauces! We only have a few in local grocer.... woah." I ended my sentence with a thoughtful huff. He watched me intently as I picked out a few and dropped them in my own basket. 

I didn't realise Grayson was following me until I turned around in the art section. I didn't comment or ask why or make fun of him for trailing behind me. 

I couldn't stop grinning as I saw the varieties of colours. It wasn't as good as a craft store—which was half an hour away from campus—but it's still better than I assumed. I ran my hand over a navy blue paint and I picked the third bottle from that row. I plucked out a few more acrylic paints for my new painting I was planning too.

"Are you an artist?" He asked, making a face while picking up two paintbrushes.

 "I don't really know. My parents told me that there were art classes here, but I think that was just bait to get me to go. I know they don't want me to be an artist. They think it's a waste of time and money." Stop talking.

"Do you think so? Do you think it's a waste of time? It shouldn't be if you like enough to pursue it for your entire living." He placed the paintbrushes back into a holder.

I swerved his question and I smacked a hand on his chest to stop him from moving. The smooth material of his shirt was soft under my palm. I stepped away and winced at my sudden invasion of his personal space. "You're putting them wrong." I scolded him, dropping the brushes into the correct  holder. 

"They're the same." 

I gaped at him. "That's a filbert brush, and that one's a round brush." I did a quick sweep and I face palmed. "It's a crime to not know the difference. It's obvious!"