How to Survive Your 19th Life [BL]

Chapter 5: The First

The power came back on as soon as we made it back to Sheridan Lofts. Jason was waiting out in front of the building. One look at me, he almost melted with worry.

"I'm fine," I said as he ran over with a million questions. Emiel didn't stop to even greet Jason. He just headed inside the dorm without a word. Though I was so embarrassed and confused by what just happened between Emiel and I in the forest, I let Jason usher me upstairs to their apartment.

It was a decent looking apartment – basic two-bedroom. All of their furniture was black, but in a modern minimalist style. It was pretty small with no dining room. I came in with Jason and found Emiel putting the dinner plates on the coffee table.

While Jason went to get his first aid kit and Emiel tinkered around the kitchen, I sat on the couch in front of a lovely plate of spaghetti with Italian sausage. It looked like something out a magazine. I stole a glance at Emiel. He was cleaning the countertop. His hazel eyes caught mine and I looked back at my plate.

Jason came back with the first aid kit, which was just some medical supplies in a plastic freezer bag.

"I can do it," I said, taking the bag from him. I took out some alcohol wipes and bandages. My knee was pretty scraped up and sore, but nothing major. I patched myself up pretty good. I would need to remember to ice it and my shoulder when I got to my dorm. Shiva would be able to help me.

"I tried calling you, but it went to voicemail," Jason said, sitting next to me on the couch.

"My battery is dead." I took my phone out of my pocket as proof.

"That an iPhone?" he asked. "I can charge it for you."

"Android."

"Ah, nevermind then."

Emiel came over and sat down on a chair nearest to Jason. He looked at us and said, "Food's getting cold." He seemed... irritated in some way. Like he didn't want me there anymore.

I couldn't help but worry that he was angry at my rejection of him. Nonetheless, my plate was made, so I ate. The food was delicious. The sausage was nice and spicy and the sauce tasted rustic.

"Did you know Emiel is a master chef?" Jason asked me. "He can make everything from scratch."

I looked at Emiel in shock. "Really, dude?"

"Don't call me dude," Emiel said. It wasn't quite a snap, but it was close. He twirled his pasta with his long fingers. A flash came to me of those hands on my skin and I needed a glass of water.

"Sorry, your highness," I coughed out.

Jason burst into a laugh, with me right along with him. Emiel kept eating as though he didn't hear the joke. Such a bland reaction made it awkward, so I choked down some more food.

After finishing our dinner, Jason and I spoke a bit about some campus gossip and our professors. He was a finance major like me, with hopes of becoming a CEO somewhere. Emiel silently took our plates and washed the dishes while we spoke. He didn't join in the conversation, just wordlessly watched us talk. Particularly, he stared at me the entire night.

Even while in the kitchen washing the dishes, I could feel his eyes on me. Around 10 PM, I decided to head back home for the night. Shiva was probably worried something happened to me.

"I'll walk you back," Jason said, checking his phone. "Apparently some places still don't have power. That's Javernick for you. We pay enough tuition to build a small country and the power grid is from WWII."

"I'll be okay," I said, putting on my torn jacket. Emiel disappeared into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I frowned. Not even a goodbye.

I said my goodbyes for Jason and left. Once outside, I heard, "Solomon, catch." I looked up just in time to see Emiel toss something out the window at me. It was a coat. I caught it with little effort.

Before I could say anything, Emiel shut the window and closed the curtains. I put the coat on, still warm from the apartment. It smelled like sandalwood.