It's my first time giving writing a go outside of a schoolhouse, so please let us keep this in mind in the comments. Anyway, all characters are works of fiction and at least 18, unless otherwise mentioned, and any resemblance to any person is merely coincidental. Also, the setting is fictional as well. Let's get on with it, shall we?
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Some days are weirder than others. Think about it, most days you get up, hopefully shower, brush your teeth, eat something, and get on with whatever it is that life has for you. Most days aren't spent rescuing puppies from super villains or climbing Everest to collect snow because you live in Arizona and just got tired of the heat. No, most days are rather simple and easy. We tend to call these days wastes and not worthy of mention or recollection.
However, every day that I spent is his company was worth ten mountains and I was never much of an animal lover anyway. So, as I look over at him, calmly watching the television as he sips on a glass of scotch, I can't help but wonder how it is that I don't recall ever doing anything major to win his affections or any moment of consequence when I had to fight a vampire lord for his honor. Maybe we are a bit dull. Maybe we are a bit strange. I like to think that it's all a bit perfect.
Before I start to ramble, though, perhaps I should start at the beginning.
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I had just begun my freshman year at Beaverbrook State University and, as was my usual, I was running with the late crowd. OK, it was almost dark, but it was a long drive and I didn't plan on there being a candle store on the way so cut me some slack. So as the moon came up, I began my walk from the housing office to the dorms, dragging two suitcases with a bag full of candles over my left arm. Walter Longfellow Memorial Dormitory. Wow. Whoever came up with the names for some of these places needs to be locked in the broom closet and beat with mop until they come out with something that resembles an imagination.
Digressing, I noticed as I was walking that I was getting a lot of stares. Now, I won't say that I'm a model or anything, but at 5'11 and a toned 170, I wasn't exactly ugly either. Plus, I've always been told that blond hair and blue eyes were major turn ons for most people and yes it's natural.
Nice to see that I won't be lacking a date while I'm up here.
It was about the time that that thought left my foolish brain that I began to hear the snickering.
"Oh, fuck me."
Apparently, in my haste I had left one of my SpongeBob boxer briefs hanging from my suitcase. Well, I never was good at making first impressions anyway. I could feel the blush rising up as I stuffed the rebellious yellow bastard back into its home.
Stupid fucking idiot you are Bambi, fucking stupid!
At least it was dark and not too many people were able to see that. No doubt I'd have a new nickname by midnight if they did. I eyed some tall redhead that looked nice enough and figured that I'd better ask directions off of somebody. Why not him?
"Hey, you, yeah, you with the blue shirt, do you know where the Longfellow Dorm is?" I asked while waving the candles at him.
"Yeah, right behind you."
This came with him smiling and him pointing at an eight story building directly behind me, complete with most of the windows glowing from their residents who were actually on time.
"Shit. Thanks for that man. I just got in and this map has a little coffee on it."
"No problem, just don't get lost from here to there".
And with that, he smiled and kept on walking.
Fuck that thing is tall and I don't exactly see an elevator. What room was I in again?
Taking out the crumbled piece of paper that the secretary from housing had written on I managed to read, despite some rather poor handwriting:
Luke Gladstone Chambers: Walter Longfellow. Floor 8. Room 12.
It fucking would, wouldn't it, and I still have a few boxes back in the car. As I trudged up eight floors of stairs I started to wonder what my roommate would be like. Lord knows that if he's a pain in the ass that I'd better find a way to get him to leave and not me. I don't want to be moving my shit down this behemoth more than I absolutely have to.
Topping the last set of steps felt like winning the Nobel Peace Prize for mediocrity. Starting down the hall I really began to get excited about meeting the person whom I'd be spending the next year with.
Room 9, room 10, what the fuck happened to the door on room 11, and at long last, room 12. Thank you God! Fumbling for my keys turned into a yoga session as I tried to not drop the candles or let go of my suitcases. Finally, I found them and opened the door with a great deal of nervousness. What if he's already asleep and gets pissed that I'm coming in this late. Classes don't start for another week from this Monday and he'd probably think I wasn't coming in until the next week, even though most people had come early for some weird welcoming concert they had planned for this weekend.
Stepping through the door I was greeted with the sight of organization personified. He had apparently chose the side of the room next to the windows with an angular ceiling, since we were on the top floor, and to say that he liked to have things in their just place may be the biggest understatement ever made.
A quick glance showed two medium sized bookcases on either side of his desk, which was positioned next to the one of the windows, and they were loaded down with books. His desk had a fairly new laptop placed in its center with a jar full of pens on one side of the laptop and another jar full of what appeared to be toothpicks and assorted candy on the other. Again this was all as neat as could be and seemed like they were placed with care.
