roommates | darkiplier

Chapter 1

I was in the middle of a phone call with my grandma, sitting at a table, but it was nothing more than a chat. These calls were daily occurrences. Some people would hate that, though, having a family member constantly calling them just to check in on them or have some small talk. But me, I absolutely loved it. How could I not? My grandma was the sweetest woman on earth, she was easy to talk with, I didn't mind our talks one bit.

—

"You still live with that one fellow? Mark, is it?"

"Yes, I am. Is there a problem?" I was never sure exactly what she thought of Mark, she never really got the chance to meet him.

"No, of course not!" Grandma's voice shot up high, like she was ashamed for a moment. When she spoke again, her tone was soft and worrisome. "It's just that...well I don't know. You're so terribly young and living with a man by yourself—"

I almost snorted. "C'mon, I'm 26 and I've known him for a couple years now. He's got a girlfriend, too. You know I'm not interested in that type of stuff."

She sighed, "Flies over my head sometimes, sorry honey." Then there was a pause before she had a realization. "Wait? You're 26 now? So you're telling me I missed two of your birthdays? I need to come down next year!"

My cheeks were red, I'm so glad she wasn't physically next to me or else she'd be hugging me and pinching my cheeks. I laughed and said, "You stay right where you are, I'll visit. It gets too hot in LA and I'd like to come home for a few days. I miss it sometimes."

There was sniffling. How easy a few simple words could make my Grandma inexplicably emotional. She managed to get a few words out, though. "You're so sweet."

"You did raise me."

"Oh..." My heart was warm. "...quit it, Edith...you're going to make me cry." At that point, I knew for sure she was tearing up. I glanced at my watch, the hour and minute hands were resting on the twelve. Noon had just struck.

"Grandma, I've gotta go soon. Mark invited me to go rock climbing at this one gym."

"Oh, fun- fun! Please do get ready. Could you email me some photos of you climbing? I want to see how high you can get."

"Of course I will. Love you Grandma."

"I love you too, sweetie– to the end of my days!"

I didn't want to end the call there. After a while, there was mumbling from her. "Now, how do you turn this thing off again..." I chuckled quietly on the other side, waiting to hear her end cut off. The phone line was silenced in a matter of seconds and I found myself quite astonished; she'd beaten her previous record by only a couple seconds.

With a smile glued on my face, I set my phone face-down on the table. I ran over my checklist in my head: I ate breakfast, I brushed my teeth, I put on deodorant, and that was really the gist of it. It felt like I'd forgotten to do something, but I brushed it off as unimportant. Must not have been major if it'd been forgotten, right?

I was startled by a loud knock at the front door. Chica, who was in the other room, must've heard it too since she started barking protectively. She scurried into the room growling, her gaze locked on the door. The window pane displayed a figure, but the design of it made them look distorted and blurry. I walked to the door and opened it, expecting the familiar face I saw almost every day for the past couple of years.

None other then Mark Fischbach.

He was smiling at first, but he just stayed in the doorway like he was waiting for something. There was something peculiar about that smile, too, actually that smirk. What was it?