More Than Roommates 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 31 - 챕터 40

Alex ~I decide that I’ve sat on my hands for way too long and I have to make the first step towards the light by the next day.I decide to invite myself for Seth’s practice to both show my apology and support and maybe that I’m trying to embrace who I truly am instead of constantly rejecting it.I sit on the bleachers at a corner where I’m hoping he doesn’t see me until he truly looks for me. It’s my way of reassuring myself that he actually still cares enough to do so. I watch him play like a god on the court.He looks different, wild free and truly in his element. I watch him bounce the ball across the court and dribble past his opponent with false shots before finally making a dunk in the basket. It’s so exciting to watch that I almost jump to my feet and clap, but that would draw attention to me. I’d save all of that for later. For some reason after the score, one of his coaches pulls him aside and whispers something in his ear and soon he is on a may wearing resistant bands a

Alex ~By the time I wake up, the other side of the bed is already empty.There’s a dent where Seth had been a faint trace of his shampoo on the pillow.a lingering warmth tucked into the sheets where he had lain and probably got up from not too long ago.For half a second, I think I dreamt it all but then I hear the low rumble of his voice in the kitchen, and I know it happened.I stretch, yawn, and take my time rising, because for some reason I feel like maybe if I move too fast, the spell might break. My feet hit the cold floor and I stand there for a moment, letting the air settle around my bare skin before tugging on one of Seth’s hoodies from the back of my chair.I quickly realize that he’s not alone.I hear Jordan’s voice and the sound of cereal clinking into a bowl. There’s something so casual about the sound that I almost laugh. Seth always did make everything look easy.I step into the kitchen just as Jordan says something I don’t catch, but Seth replies with, “Yeah, but he

Alex~I don’t expect the knock.It comes in the middle of a quiet Sunday afternoon where the clouds overhead are stilled and there’s barely a breeze outside, the clouds are the kind of gray that turns the dorm hallway into something hushed and suspended. Seth’s out running errands. I’m halfway through microwaving leftover rice, trying to force myself to eat something that isn’t dry cereal or cold Pop-Tarts.Then i hear it at the door two soft knocks, hesitant and careful.I pause with my hand on the microwave. I listen for a second, I just stand there, not moving, then I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and head to the door, already assuming it’s someone from our floor who forgot their key card or another RA with a clipboard.Only when i open the door, it’s not either of these people, it’s Tracey.She’s wearing a green knit sweater I recognize, it’s one of the ones she used to wear on movie nights, the kind I once tugged off her shoulders with my teeth. Her hair’s down, her eyeliner

Alex~It’s the presentation day already and I am feeling super jittery.The room is already buzzing when I walk in. People are half-settled in their seats, chatting over the tops of laptops, chewing gum, shuffling slides. The projector hums quietly overhead, casting a faint glow over the front row. Jordan’s already there, naturally. He gives me a small nod, like we’re teammates passing the ball off mid-game, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to he already did the work. The editing, the stitching, the last-minute subtitle alignment. I’m just the one opening my mouth in front of thirty people.My mouth feels like it doesn’t belong to me and so does my arms. I clutch my bag too tightly and try not to look like I’m gripping it for stability. I finally sit down, watching the professor go through attendance with his usual half-hearted rhythm. His glasses keep slipping down his nose that he doesn’t bother fixing them anymore. I look down at my shaky hands, maybe I should’ve aske

Alex~I do not know how long we stay like that on the sidewalk, with the night air wrapping around us like a second skin. My face is pressed into his jacket, and it smells faintly of laundry soap and underneath is something warmer, that makes me want to hold my breath just to keep it in.The cold creeps into my fingers, but I do not move because I do not want to. Seth’s chin rests on the top of my head, and every time he exhales, the warmth of his breath slips through my hair. His arms stay locked around me like if he loosens them, I might slide apart right there on the concrete.When he finally pulls back, it is not much, just enough to see my face, his brows drawn like he is still bracing for whatever comes next.“You good?” he asks quietly.It is a stupid question and we both know it, but the way he says it makes it less about the answer and more about letting me choose whether to talk at all.“Yeah,” I lie. My voice does not even try to make it sound convincing.His mouth tilts i