Pleuvoir | Eric Coulter

Dalawamput-lima

If I had to choose a song that describes Eric and Karoliina, this is it. I highly recommend for you to listen to it.

K  a r  o l i i n a

The dorm is empty. Absolutely and irrevocably empty.

Panic surges through me like a wild fire, momentarily making me freeze. My eyes dart from one end of the room to another as I run towards my bed, only finding it completely empty. Nothing is on it, nothing is in the whole fucking room.

"What in the hell--"

"What are you doing here?"

I whirl around at the sudden voice, but when my eyes meet those of blue ones, I visibly relax and feel relief fill me. Huh, he always seems to be around whenever I'm stuck in strange moments. Eric raises his eyebrows at my actions and stalks towards me with his hands behind his back.

Standing in front of me, he says, "All the newly turned members are expected to find an apartment a day after the last stage of initiation."

My mouth hangs open as a shocked gasp escapes my lips, "I didn't know about--"

"Then that shows you don't listen all the time," He smiles sarcastically, and I bow my head in defeat.

I hear him sigh and the next thing I know, he blurts out words that I never expected he would utter, "You can stay at my place tonight."

My face flushes in an alarming red colour. With wide eyes, I look up at him in disbelief, "Are you--"

"I have a spare room," He pauses and clears his throat, averting his gaze to the wall behind me, "You can use it in the meantime until you find your own place." 

"Sure," I reply almost too quickly. Realising what I just did, I add with a stammer, "I-I mean if that won't be a bother to you or anything." 

He makes a small smile, one that's hard to see if you don't look close, but he smiles, and it warms my heart and makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"Follow me." I do as he says, walking out the room with him beside me. My feet makes scuffling noises against the cold cement floor, as opposed to Eric, who makes strong clicks with his boots that resonates in the long corridor. 

We climb up the stairs, pass by the roof's entrance--which I longingly glance at--and proceed to walk to a door marked with the number 155. I stop and watch as Eric digs into his pockets and fishes out his keys, inserting it on the door knob and twisting it later on. As he opens the door, he beckons at me to go inside with unreadable eyes.

I drop my head and timidly step into his room. When I look up though, it leaves me baffled.

His room doesn't look like what I expected it to be. I thought it would be full of things, scattered with objects that had dark colours. But, it isn't.

The room is desolate, almost completely empty and as if nobody lives in it. It has little furniture, as far as I could see. One tattered couch pressed up against a dingy grey wall, a small, stained wooden table in front of it. There was a small opening that lead to what I assumed was the kitchen, and as far as my eyes could see, it was bare except for a black counter and some dusty cupboards.

It doesn't look like a leader lives here, honestly.

"I'm sorry if it's quite empty," He says in his gruff voice, and I swear I can hear the embarrassment in them, "I just never thought of adding up more--"