Novelas y relatos de The Room Between Us

Elva: Luckily, Nixie, Anna and I both got paired as roommates. Our room is a bit wide, it is located on the fourth floor, in the quieter wing. There’s a heavy velvet curtain blocking away the moonlight, our beds arranged neatly, an array of books. Reading tables and chairs, a kitchenette, the other door leads to the bathroom and that’s basically it. We all slump on the bed, too tired to unpack. I couldn’t even say the exact moment I fell asleep.

Sometimes, I felt suicidal due to depression until I met Arianna. Now this luxury room of mine consists of cool stuff like a relaxation chair. A yoga mat, a golden shelf full of my favorite romance books, a hanging camp chair that dangled from the ceiling, a music system etc. there were a lot of things I had stocked inside the room and if I started to mention them, I might end up using the entire day. "We are going live in one, two, three....," the cameraman of our agency announced, indicating with his thumb that we were fully live.

But my feet moved on their own. The door to the room next to mine, Room 312 was cracked open just enough. A sliver of warm light spilled out. I pushed it wider, silent. And saw them. Two girls on the lower bunk, bodies tangled, completely naked. One was on top, long blonde hair spilling down her back, hips rolling slow and deliberate. The other beneath her, dark curls fanned across the pillow, legs wrapped around the blonde’s waist. They were in a perfect 69.

Colors that match how I feel inside. I don't stop to speak with any of the receptionists, neither do I use the elevator. I climb the stairs one at a time, until my green dot is directly aligned with Shaun's red dot. I look up and find myself in front of Room 213. My heart begins to thunder. Not from my walk on the stairs but from what lays behind the doors. Today I have decided to make peace with myself. The life I live isn't truly the one which has been destined for me since birth and Shaun's actions has just given me a reality check, reminding me that we were probably never meant to be.

"Then move aside" Liam entered forcefully and froze when he saw the condition of her room. Popcorn was scattered on the bed. Bedsheets were undone. Chip packets were on the nightstand. Empty chocolate wrappers were on the floor. Clothes were on the chair and floor. "Is this your room or a dustbin?" Liam scowled at her. Then he heard a loud moaning voice and turned towards the TV just to see that Fifty Shades of Grey was playing on TV. He raised his eyebrows at Elena amused.

"I sleep better when you're nearby. I told you this. It appears to be a permanent condition rather than a temporary one." He said nothing for a moment. "I'll have it moved," he said. "You can't move a room." "I can move which room you're assigned." He glanced at her. "There's a room adjacent to mine. Currently used for storage. I'll have it cleared." She looked at him. Adjacent. Not the same — appropriate, correct, defensible — but close enough that the bond wouldn't spend the night straining across the width of a camp. "That's practical," she said.

He closes the door. The room is the room I've cleaned and attended for thirty-two days, but it's different tonight in the specific way rooms are different when the function has changed—not in any physical detail, but in the quality of the air, the lamp, and the presence of the two of us in it. I stand in the room and look at him and he looks at me. There's no tray between us, no document, no desk, no task, nothing between us except the room and the low lamp and six weeks and the excuse I brought and which has stopped functioning. He crosses to me.

But here she was. As they walked down the hospital hallway, Selena could not show off the guilt she felt. Keller stood close as usual and she was grateful for his steady presence. They appeared by the door of her room. Room 312. Selena wasn’t sure of what to expect once that door opened. Her hands shook as she held on to the door handle, not sure if she should go ahead or wait. “You don’t have to do this right now,” Keller said quietly. “I really want to know.” She said with teary eyes, as she opened the door.

Yves Riverson had a new razor. It was royal blue, wrapped in red silk, and he placed it at the very bottom of his suitcase as though it were some priceless treasure. During the flight, the plane suddenly hit turbulence. The alarm screeched through the cabin, and in that moment, the thing he clutched was not my hand. It was the razor someone else had given him. Only after the plane landed did he seem to remember I was there. He gently caressed my hand and told me not to be afraid. I said nothing, nor did I push him away. After we left the airport, I watched him eagerly pick up his phone. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Then he turned and saw me. The smile on his face froze. "Just talking to my p

"Is that she fucking tried to kill a girl, a girl who means a lot to me." Sara's eyes widened, I could practically see the color draining from her face. "You need to come with me!" She said finally. The sheer desperation in her voice made me follow her. We stepped inside a room. I studied the numerous pictures on the wall and came to the conclusion that it was Sara's room. "Why did you bring me here?" I demanded. She didn't answer me, instead she walked to her bedside table and took out what looked like an old newspaper. What the hell is she doing?