Novel & Cerita Psycho Roommates

For six months I renovated the condo where my fiancé and I were supposed to begin our married life. Grant said he was buried in a project. My brother said he was always traveling. My best friend said something had come up at home. Not one of them had time to lend a hand. The night before I moved in, they covered my eyes and told me someone I would never guess had come back to warm the place for me. The door opened, and there was Serena Cole, a childhood friend I hadn’t seen in years, wearing my slippers and rushing at me with a smile. “Surprised?” I was. Until she said, offhand, “These past few days I couldn’t have managed without Grant helping me pick a mattress, Owen carrying my bags,

The sound was constant—the slapping of skin, the heavy breathing, and the high-pitched screams of girls hitting their peaks. "Don't get distracted," Dan warned. "You’re in Room 201." Finally, we stepped into a massive room filled with soft pillows and one giant, circular bed. It was chaotic. “Seven people live here,” Dan informed. Seven? In one room? I mean the room is so large, but still. Damn. In the corner, a guy was pounding a girl so hard the headboard was banging against the wall. Near the window, two guys were occupied with each other, one kneeling in front of the other, sucking the cock like his life depended on it while he stroked himself beneath.

I see you next to each other, cuddling on your bed every time I go to the bathroom in the early morning. Roommate 2: Yeah! How do you sneak your girlfriend into the room without being seen by the monitors, huh? And she really holds onto you like she's afraid to lose you or something… Roommate 4: WHAT BABE? F**K YOU, DON’T GIVE ME THAT! I DON’T BRING ANY LADIES INTO THIS ROOM AND I DON’T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! The three roommates were shocked. One of them even screamed in fright. Roommate 3: F**K YOU TOO! WHO’S THAT BESIDE YOU, EMBRACING YOU SINCE EARLIER WHEN WE STARTED DRINKING?!

I said to Rowan and he nodded. We made our way to the hall. It was gigantic, packed, buzzing with cheap excitement. Students huddled in groups, laughing way too loud, acting like this was a festival. The speaker echoed again: “This is the roommate selection game! Each student will draw a slip. Whatever room number you choose, you must remain in that room. No changes allowed.” Murmurs rippled the hall. My eye twitched. Roommates, strangers snoring, breathing near me. Kill me now! I should just die! Shit!

My roommate was supposed to be someone named Zayn. Room 214. As I entered, I heard loud noise from down the hall… someone complaining about push-up competitions, someone shouting about a lost sneaker, someone laughing like they had no worries in life. Ah. Boy universe. Loud. Chaotic. Smelled faintly like deodorant and ego. Finally, I reached my door. My hand trembled slightly as I pushed it open. The room was surprisingly cozy. Two beds, two desks, warm lighting. One side neat and organized… a sign that someone took pride in their space. Thank goodness.

Room 217. The key turned with a rusty protest. The room was small. Two beds, two desks, two closets. Cinderblock walls painted the color of skim milk. A window that faced the parking lot. My roommate's side was already claimed, posters of bands I didn't recognize, a string of fairy lights that looked like they had died slowly, a textbook open to a chapter on cognitive dissonance. My side was bare. A mattress wrapped in plastic. An empty desk. A closet with three wire hangers.

he stammered, the hesitation in his voice impossible to disguise. It wasn’t really my place to pry. “Am sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into your privacy. After all, we were nothing more than roommates… and occasional fuckmates. There was no exclusivity between us,no obligations,no promises and certainly no claim over one another—nothing that justified my curiosity. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three firm knocks resonated through the apartment, shattering the uneasy silence. I instinctively lifted my head, my brows knitting together. Who on earth could that be now? I wondered.

he complained out of the blue and she could feel her face grow red. "Whatever." she hissed. "We can't be and will never be room mates." she said sternly. "Why?" he asked and she looked at him like he said the earth is flat. "Because for one, you're a guy. Two, you're annoying. Three, you're a stalker and four, you just impersonated your sister." she explained counting her fingers as she did. "Let me clear that out for you. One lots of girls have male roommates. Two, I am the list chasing person ever. Three, I'm definitely not stalking you. Fate just have a way of leading me to you." he winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

Samara's Point of view "Why should I go out of here, this is my room too." He said calmly. What the hell he is saying…! Is he out of his mind … ! "What do you mean?" I asked, confused "WE ARE ROOMMATES, BABY GIRL." "Are you mad or what? This is not possible, you must be joking. Now enough of your stupid jokes just get out of here". I yelled at him, instead of moving out of the room he started to laugh like a maniac.

Jenna blurted out, completely caught off guard. Drake offered a faint smile, as though this was amusing to him. “Looks like I’m your third roommate.” Drake Vexmoor was the third roommate? He leaned casually against the counter, his eyes flicking toward her with the same unreadable depth from before. “Morning,” he said with a slow, amused grin. Jenna blinked. “You… live here?” “Looks like it,” he said simply. “I was told this room was reserved for a special pairing. Seems I got lucky.”