7 years ago

Monroe. That was the name of the apartment Iwan was staying in Apartment B4, owned by his mother's friend Analea to be exact.

The sun peeked through the shutters, bathing the room in delightful sunlight. Iwan pushed himself off the bed, carding his hand through his messy curls, his pickle shirt was rumpled, his crescent moon birthmark on his collarbone slightly visible, he shoved his feet into warm slippers and left the main bedroom.

He continued his journey through the living room, he still felt drowsy, like sleep was still gnawing at him. Chasing after him, trying to coax him into bed. But alas, time couldn't wait, so why not make the most of the day?

Iwan stopped in the living room doorway. He blinked once, then twice. There was someone asleep on the freaking couch Iwan reached for his phone ready to call the police, or at least security before it dawned on him.

The stranger was probably Analea's niece she told him about in the welcoming letter!

He very carefully approached the couch and gently shook the stranger awake.