Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 4

"Owen! Stop! Please, stop it!" I scream as he begins to shake the lift as we rise to the top floor, "Sorry, I forgot you're scared of lifts," He starts laughing again which causes the lift to shake once more, "We're going to plummet to our death, Owen! I do not want to die with you!" I hiss and he stops laughing altogether, his poker face back. He grunts, "Yes, you'd rather die with Garcia," I roll my eyes, deadpanning him, "Grow up, I'm not actually your fiancee."

Before he can say anything else, the terror shack's doors open leading us to a single door, we step out and I realise there isn't another door in sight, do we have the whole top floor? "Yes, we have the whole top floor and you should really get that under control," He states and I furrow my eyebrows at him, "Get what under control?"

"Thinking aloud, idiot," He rolls his eyes before unlocking our penthouse door and we enter, "Whoah! This place is amazing!" I gasp in awe, my eyes digesting the beauty of my new home and he grunts in reply, "Obviously, you're the poorest person I know."

"And we're back to square one, such a dick," I mumble under my breath and grab my two duffel bags that are on the sofa in the living room, the first room you enter when you step through the oak front door. This penthouse is magnificent! When you first open the front door you are greeted by the very large main room and living room with ceilings so high that there is a large crystal chandelier on the roof. The walls are grey and white and very modern.

After stepping in, you can see a family photo of the Anstey's and one of my family beside each other in large frames which are balanced on top of a grand piano. I'm glad that they remembered that I like to play the piano and sing. I hated having to wait until I got to school to unleash my feelings. The floors are brown, laminated oak floorboards and there is a lovely beige coloured rug on the floor with the back of the sofa facing the door you entered in, a large flatscreen TV on the wall, a coffee table in between the sofa and the TV, two armchairs placed either side of the sofa.

The rest of the space in this room is empty (besides a small wooden table off to the side with a lampshade in it), waiting for Owen and me to fill it with our own quirks.

"Where do you think you're going?" Owen calls after me when I attempt to drag myself and my two small bags up the stairs which are winding up the left side of the living room, floor to ceiling glass walls on the whole left-hand side of the building which reveals a small park underneath us with bristling trees and narrow paths surrounding it. The patio doors at the bottom of the stairs lead to a large balcony, the whole length of the building. I can see a hot tub and a woven table and chairs out there, a fire pit built into the table with a glass guard surrounding it. The rest, again, is empty for Owen and me to add to.

"I'm going to find my room and unpack," I reply as if I am talking to a three-year-old and he huffs, "Put your crappy bags on the sofa, I'm giving you a tour of the place, otherwise you'll get lost," He demands and I glare at him, "What're you trying to say?" I question, offended.

I receive a deadpan look and immediately regret asking him, "That you've never lived in a place so luxurious, you'll need help adjusting," He shrugs and I sigh, dropping my bags on the sofa, "What? No arguing back? No sarcastic comment?" I shake my head, "You're right," He looks taken aback but doesn't reply, just gestures for me to follow him.

***

It turns out this penthouse is more captivating than I thought! It even has a cinema room, a ginormous kitchen, a downstairs bathroom, a study, five bedrooms (each with en-suites and TVs), walk-in closets, luxuries a person could only dream of living with! Now Owen is helping me hang up the minority of my clothes since I don't have many, "So, you're still into music?" He asks me from outside the closet where he is passing me things to hang up.