“People often regard my lodge as a humble living.”
Dianne smiled politely, realizing that the landlady might feel offended if she looked so shocked at her new room’s size. It was spacious, though, because there was not much furniture in the room. A single bed edged towards one side of the wall, a medium-sized closet, a simple kitchen set, a chair and a table. They all looked old—as Dianne walked around to check them, the wooden floor creaked underneath her feet, making her shiver with the thought that the building could collapse any minute.
“No worries, you’ll be fine,” the landlady spoke again after seemingly reading Dianne’s mind. “I hope you’re not one of those internet freaks of today’s generation… With such a low monthly fee, I can’t afford to have connection in my place.”
“It’s fine, Ma’am. I promise I won’t burden you about anything else. I just need a place to stay and this is quite perfect,” Dianne took her coat off and looked out the window. She was not sure how far she was from Lucio now—all she did was walk recklessly away from her favorite café and make sure she remembered how to get back to that café from this new home of hers.
She didn’t know why, but that café was like a tiny refuge for her.
She refused to admit that a little part of her kept wanting to go there just to see Nate and his ever-blank laptop again.
“If that’s the case, I hope you’ll be fine here,” the landlady nodded. “The neighbors are nice—they’re all busy workers like you too, so most probably they won’t bug you that much.”
Busy workers. Dianne told the landlady that she would most probably be away every evening to write in a familiar café, so maybe she thought her new customer was a writer. Dianne wondered when the landlady would find out that she was no more than a fugitive running away from something she wasn’t sure of.
Why was she afraid of coming back to Lucio?
She knew well that Lucio only wanted her to relieve the pressure he got from his father by being with him every night.
Aside from that, they were mere roommates.
But for some reason, she believed that somebody out there, though she did not know where, would not be happy with the idea of her sleeping with someone she didn’t love.
That somebody out there actually wanted her for everything she was.
YOU ARE READING
Tearing Paper
RomanceThere's this girl. She spends every day tearing paper, as if nothing she writes ever makes sense. There's this guy. He spends every day watching her, although he knows he isn't ready to love again. When he finally dares himself to make a move, they...
