My Eros (Modern Cupid and Psyche Dirty)
Page 8
The room is huge. Colossal even. But it also feels cozy and inviting, and I find myself temporarily forgetting my time at the labyrinth as I soak in the lovely warmth of my surroundings.
There's a big bed on each side of the room, one for me and my roommate, who I see has already occupied the one on the right. The beds come with brass head boards and frames, and on the foot of each bed is a fancy-looking writing desk. Escritoires, I think it's called.
Next to our beds we have our own window nooks, and between them is an inviting-looking fireplace. There's no couch, but we do have a big thick rug as well as a built-in counter on the opposite wall with a little sink. There's also open shelving overhead and wooden drawers with brass handles under the counter.
I've always had this impression that student dorms, no matter how lavish, rarely ever come with en-suites, but when I see a door adjacent to my roommate's desk, I can't help but hope. Since the whole thing already looks like a hotel room, why not go all the way and...huh?
A walk-in closet?
I don't even know what to think as I take in the hers and hers vanities, both with three-paneled mirrors and matching brass lyre chairs. There's so much wardrobe space it feels like I've stepped into a dress boutique, and I can't help feeling a little embarrassed when everything in my luggage only ends up occupying a single shelf and two bottom drawers. This whole walk-in closet is making me feel totally lame, but...whatever. Sartorial paucity is the least of my problems, all things considered, and besides...I'm getting hungry.
I remember spying a couple of vendos on my way here, and after locking up, I'm relieved to see my memory hasn't failed me. Three vendos total, one for drinks, another for snacks, while the last machine has everything from pasta to cup noodles. I eventually settle for a sandwich and hot cappuccino in a bottle, and both taste surprisingly worth my money.
Freaky labyrinth episode aside, Rosethorne is turning out to be a lot more interesting than I expected, and maybe...maybe Vermont is far enough for no one to hear about what went down in my old school?
I know it's wishful thinking, but...oh.
My roommate's back from dinner, and she's gorgeous. Long pink hair, lilac eyes, and a petite frame that somehow looks even more fragile in her light academia getup: tweed blazer over a flesh-colored turtleneck, short plaid skirt matched with dark gray Chelsea boots.
I wait for her to send a look or maybe even a smile at my direction, and I start to worry when she doesn't. Does that mean she's the type to hate me just because?
I clear my throat, and she finally turns my way. But when I open my mouth to say hi, the other girl shakes her head at me, saying, "I don't want to be your friend yet."
Uh...what?
Prior to coming to Rosethorne, I've prepared myself for the possibility that my roommate can either be an angel or a devil, but...have I heard her right?
Did she just say she doesn't want to be my friend...yet?
I'm about to ask her to explain, but I've only just started to open my mouth again when my roommate gives me another shake of her pretty pink head.
"You're new, you're gorg, and you don't seem stupid. All of that can only mean one thing: you're absolutely guaranteed to be bullied—-"
Okaaay.
"And I don't want to waste time being friends with someone who might not even last a week."
My mouth opens and closes.
Well...
At least she's honest, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I like it better that way, and so I stick my hand out and say easily, "It's a deal."
She hesitates for a second, and then she gives my hand a quick shake.
We don't talk after that, but the silence between us isn't hostile, and that's more than enough for me. I finish the rest of my vendo-supplied dinner, and afterwards I use the school's app to find where the shower stalls in our floor are located.
By the time I return to our suite, my roommate has already turned in for the night, and I try my best to make as little noise as possible as I tiptoe to my bed and pull the sheets up to my neck. The heater's on full blast, but I still feel like I'm about to freeze to death.
The cold eventually lulls me into sleep...and I start to dream.
I'M ALONE IN THE WOODS, and the trees around me are but towering scraggly shadows under the silvery stream of moonlight. There are butterflies everywhere, and they're like nothing I've ever seen, with bodies that glow incandescently and wings that seem to change from purple to red, blue to green, yellow to orange.