Slamming the door open, I slide into the house. After I take a sharp corner to the stairs, I speed up. I yell for my roommate, W. He comes out of his room so quickly his body slammed against the wall across from his room, a panicked look laid upon his face. He makes a motion with his hands to tell me to continue with what I was saying. Being a bit out of breath from running so quickly, I hold up a finger to signify I need to catch my breath.

“W., so you know the dude at the flower shop by the little market, that I have been trying to get the number of for like ever…?“

W. gives a quick nod.

“Okay. Yeah. So he was on trial for the murder of his therapist. Sick, right?”

“...”

“I KNOW RIGHT! Who’d expect the little quiet flower boy. He gives the locals free flowers on their birthday. Also, heard this happened years ago. Body wasn’t found until today. Sick, right”

“Breathe.”

“How can I when such a magnificent boy could also be a murder?!”

“Go make some tea and chill, then come back and talk to me. Your voice is a bit annoying when you’re like this.”

Huffing, I cross my arms and turn around. W. is right, but I mean, the flower boy. Skipping down the stairs, I go into the kitchen and prepare a sandwich for myself. Then, I go to my room and grab my laptop, then head toward my tree house. I plop down on the bean bag, making myself comfortable.

I look at Tumblr for a bit before getting bored and heading out of the tree house. It’s nighttime and since the area we live in doesn't have too much light pollution, the sky looks wonderful. Yawning, I head downstairs to my room, knocking on W.’s door, saying ‘Goodnight’. Usually W. responds with a ‘Night’, but they don’t. Worried, I open the door, only to see him asleep at his desk, probably studying for the test he has tomorrow. I go to tap him on the shoulder to tell him to go to his bed or his back will hurt in the morning, only to have him grab my arm, flip me over and pin me to the ground. Knife to my neck, I yawn and give W. a tired smile. W. looks down at me, shakes his head, and gets off of me.

“I told you to never come into my room without permission.”

“Yeah, buuuuut you weren’t answering, so I wanted to check up on you.”

“Good reason, now get out.”

“You said we’d watch a movie today. Hey maybe even those crime shows we like, eh?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”