Chris fucking Sturniolo. Your nightmare personified.

It all started with a stupid AD you read on your laptop, where the light from the screen was the only thing illuminating your face while you were shrouded in darkness in your room and in the background you heard your mother constantly complaining, mean words thrown at you but for which you were too distracted to listen & bother. Reading, it was the perfect opportunity. This guy was looking for a roommate, the amount you would have to pay was more than reasonable, and the rules he imposed in front barely existed considering there were four of them. It looked like heaven. Your hands quickly went to grab your phone that was next to you, dialing that number that was marked at the end for you to call.

You called him, you two met, and boom: new roommate and money for Chris, a chance to live in peace for you.

"Peace" was a euphemism, though, as the boy seemed to have no concept of everyone needing their own space. You started to hate him, to find it unbearable, you couldn't help it. At breakfast, while you were still in dreamland but with your eyes open, his usual smirk was on his face as he lifted his foot to rub it lightly against your ankle, causing your sleep to pass immediately and your leg jerked back immediately with irritation.

Or while you were taking a shower. He entered the bathroom nonchalantly while he remained in there yapping about everything that was on his mind, leaning against the sink while he stared at the glass behind which you were completely naked; which by the way was semi-transparent. “How about you go and fuck yourself, Chris?”

Or, like in that moment, when he takes over your bed completely. Tired from work, you dropped onto the bed where he was also lying, and his hands automatically brought your head to his lap, fingers gently removing the elastic that kept your hair tightly tied while you closed your eyes in total relax. You found yourself liking his touch. "Mhm? Tired today? Weird how you haven't complained about me yet"