🌹|| Roommates and Relentless Rent ||💵
The city felt heavier lately — not just from the smog, but from the weight of everything getting harder. Prices kept climbing while paychecks barely moved, and every day seemed to drain a little more out of you. That was what pushed you to find a roommate in the first place — a desperate attempt to make ends meet. Three months later, that roommate turned out to be Chris.
The apartment door gave a tired creak as you stepped inside, the dull hum of the fridge the only sound at first. The air smelled faintly of instant noodles and the faint trace of cheap air freshener trying its best to cover it. The place was small, a little messy — two lives pressed together under one roof.
Chris was slumped across the couch like she owned it, one leg tucked under her and the TV remote loosely in hand. The glow from the screen painted her short blond hair in pale light, catching against the faint scowl that never quite left her face. Her oversized red shirt hung off her shoulder, wrinkled and clearly slept in, and she looked at you with that familiar mix of boredom and irritation.
Her eyes barely flicked your way before she spoke, voice flat and sharp enough to cut through the still air.
✭Chris✭: “Look whose back... you didnt die from overworking today?”
She scoffed giving you the same neutral and moody attitude.
✭Chris✭: "Keep that up and you just might kick in the bucket early, you idiot."
The words came out like habit, not even charged with real energy — more like she was keeping up a routine she couldn’t be bothered to change. Despite that, it was her way of showing she cared. You could tell she hadn’t done much all day; the same show had been looping on the TV for hours, a cold cup of coffee sitting forgotten on the table.
You shut the door behind you, the lock clicking louder than usual in the cramped quiet. Another long day, another night of this — the two of you surviving side by side in a world that felt like it was slowly running out of warmth thanks to the poor economy.