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So this was what they called a room?
There was one window. It was wider than it was long, and stretched across the top of the south wall, overlooking a courtyard that had seen better days. Prosper wrinkled his nose at the state of the lilac bushes and thought, with as much fondness as he ever felt for people who did not aspire to be anything more than gardeners, that Mr. Dominguez would sooner have sheared off his own foot than let his mother’s topiary grow so much.
There were two beds. Prosper initially selected the one closest to the bathroom for himself by marking it with his bag. And then, spotting a stain of questionable origins, moved his stuff to the other mattress.
The carpet was brand new. It agreed with Prosper, who was willing to forgive the dusty rose colour in light of how delightfully plush the fibres were under his feet. He reached for the curtains, tested them to make sure that they closed, and then was satisfied when they did.
The bathroom was the most important test of all. Feeling skeptic, dreading the worst, Prosper tried the lightswitch. Like the carpet, the fixtures in the bathroom had been recently replaced. The taps in the sink and the shower sparkled as though they had never been touched, and the towel rack looked sturdy on the wall. Prosper found himself pleasantly surprised, and then disappointed that the only thing he had to complain about was the size of the space. There could only have been room for three bottles of conditioner and two bars of soap, and where was he going to put his bubble bath?
He bit his lip, and then lowered himself into the tub, fully clothed, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“I suppose this will have to do,” he sniffed, having forgotten that he’d left the bedroom door wide open, and that his roommate was also due to arrive that day.
There was one window. It was wider than it was long, and stretched across the top of the south wall, overlooking a courtyard that had seen better days. Prosper wrinkled his nose at the state of the lilac bushes and thought, with as much fondness as he ever felt for people who did not aspire to be anything more than gardeners, that Mr. Dominguez would sooner have sheared off his own foot than let his mother’s topiary grow so much.
There were two beds. Prosper initially selected the one closest to the bathroom for himself by marking it with his bag. And then, spotting a stain of questionable origins, moved his stuff to the other mattress.
The carpet was brand new. It agreed with Prosper, who was willing to forgive the dusty rose colour in light of how delightfully plush the fibres were under his feet. He reached for the curtains, tested them to make sure that they closed, and then was satisfied when they did.
The bathroom was the most important test of all. Feeling skeptic, dreading the worst, Prosper tried the lightswitch. Like the carpet, the fixtures in the bathroom had been recently replaced. The taps in the sink and the shower sparkled as though they had never been touched, and the towel rack looked sturdy on the wall. Prosper found himself pleasantly surprised, and then disappointed that the only thing he had to complain about was the size of the space. There could only have been room for three bottles of conditioner and two bars of soap, and where was he going to put his bubble bath?
He bit his lip, and then lowered himself into the tub, fully clothed, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“I suppose this will have to do,” he sniffed, having forgotten that he’d left the bedroom door wide open, and that his roommate was also due to arrive that day.
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There was no part of Tristan that was particularly eager for a roommate. He wasn’t exactly the most tolerant of people - and he had gotten even less so in the months since his sister’s disappearance. There was no way he was going to be what anyone considered pleasant to live with, but if he was lucky, his roommate would leave him alone and that would be that.
He wasn’t the first in the room, apparently, which meant that he had a moment to size up his roomie - and he wasn’t impressed. Every bit of how the other man carried himself screamed “haughty a*****e” - exactly Tristan’s least favorite type of person.
“It’s gonna do, or you’re gonna have a rough semester,” he said. South Wales was still thick in his voice. He pushed past, to go put his things on the remaining bed. He wasn’t going to argue about placements - there was a desk and a bed for both of them, and that was about as much as he needed. He was used to small spaces.
He wasn’t the first in the room, apparently, which meant that he had a moment to size up his roomie - and he wasn’t impressed. Every bit of how the other man carried himself screamed “haughty a*****e” - exactly Tristan’s least favorite type of person.
“It’s gonna do, or you’re gonna have a rough semester,” he said. South Wales was still thick in his voice. He pushed past, to go put his things on the remaining bed. He wasn’t going to argue about placements - there was a desk and a bed for both of them, and that was about as much as he needed. He was used to small spaces.
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The prospect of sharing a space with anyone who wasn’t staff, or otherwise paid to keep him company, was a new phenomenon for Prosper. It was a moment before he understood that the thing he’d just heard was a voice attached to a man, and not some sort of galactic hiccup. It was another before he pieced together exactly what the stranger with the thick (and unfamiliar) accent had said.
He pursed his lips, but kept his thoughts to himself.
“That is an interesting accent,” Prosper said, clambering slowly out of the tub.
He paused in front of the mirror to check his reflection, ran his fingers through his hair. “What is it? English?”
His voice was light and cordial, if not outright friendly. People were not really his thing. People tended to be poor and whiny and demanding. If it had been left up to Prosper, he would have spent the rest of his life practicing yoga and snacking on cucumbers in his mother’s mansion, and he would never have to get to know anyone. But his stepfather had threatened to take away all of his credit cards if he did not agree to college- and a roommate. Because roommates were supposed to build character, or something.
Prosper peered around the bathroom door at Tristan’s broad back, considered the long hair and the accent and concluded that he was… interesting. For Prosper, this was being generous.
“I took the bed over there because the mattress is softer,” he said, lying so that Tristan would not suspect him of being anything other than gracious- he would have taken the other bed, really, if it were not for his bad back. It had nothing to do with the stain at all. “I hope you don’t mind.”
He pursed his lips, but kept his thoughts to himself.
“That is an interesting accent,” Prosper said, clambering slowly out of the tub.
He paused in front of the mirror to check his reflection, ran his fingers through his hair. “What is it? English?”
His voice was light and cordial, if not outright friendly. People were not really his thing. People tended to be poor and whiny and demanding. If it had been left up to Prosper, he would have spent the rest of his life practicing yoga and snacking on cucumbers in his mother’s mansion, and he would never have to get to know anyone. But his stepfather had threatened to take away all of his credit cards if he did not agree to college- and a roommate. Because roommates were supposed to build character, or something.
Prosper peered around the bathroom door at Tristan’s broad back, considered the long hair and the accent and concluded that he was… interesting. For Prosper, this was being generous.
“I took the bed over there because the mattress is softer,” he said, lying so that Tristan would not suspect him of being anything other than gracious- he would have taken the other bed, really, if it were not for his bad back. It had nothing to do with the stain at all. “I hope you don’t mind.”
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Tristan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at the man’s pause before responding. Apparently his roommate lived in his own world - which would be just fine, were it not slightly awkward when he actually made attempts at conversation. Oh well, he could live with that. He wasn’t exactly the type of person who needed conversation, even if he was so far convinced his roommate was definitely a little...odd.
“Welsh,” he said, and there was a tinge of irritation to his voice. “Little more to the south and west.” He turned to face the direction the voice appeared to be coming from, and finally got a chance to actually survey his roommate. He was smaller, but at 6’3” and muscular, most people were at least a little smaller than Tristan, so that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“I’m not picky about sleeping arrangements,” he said, and he walked over to the remaining bed and deposited his shoulderbag on it. “Tristan Baskerville,” he introduced with no further preamble. At least they could get names out of the way.
“Welsh,” he said, and there was a tinge of irritation to his voice. “Little more to the south and west.” He turned to face the direction the voice appeared to be coming from, and finally got a chance to actually survey his roommate. He was smaller, but at 6’3” and muscular, most people were at least a little smaller than Tristan, so that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“I’m not picky about sleeping arrangements,” he said, and he walked over to the remaining bed and deposited his shoulderbag on it. “Tristan Baskerville,” he introduced with no further preamble. At least they could get names out of the way.
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“Prosper,” said Prosper. He bit his tongue on his last name, mused over whether or not Tristan would recognize him as the heir to one of the most prolific cosmetic empires in the nation. Dubois also happened to be the name of his mother’s chain- it was entirely likely that Tristan would know it.
… On the other hand, a man without preference for where he rested his head at night probably did not have much taste for anything. Prosper appraised Tristan’s appearance, unaware of how obvious he was being, and decided that it was a pity. With a build like that Tristan probably could have landed any lover of his choice. Too bad he dressed like such a nerd.
Not that Prosper cared where the other man put his d**k.
“Prosper Dubois.” He sat daintily on the edge of his own bed, fixed Tristan with his bright purple stare. “So. What brings you to Destiny City?”
… On the other hand, a man without preference for where he rested his head at night probably did not have much taste for anything. Prosper appraised Tristan’s appearance, unaware of how obvious he was being, and decided that it was a pity. With a build like that Tristan probably could have landed any lover of his choice. Too bad he dressed like such a nerd.
Not that Prosper cared where the other man put his d**k.
“Prosper Dubois.” He sat daintily on the edge of his own bed, fixed Tristan with his bright purple stare. “So. What brings you to Destiny City?”
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Tristan frowned slightly, but it wasn’t like it mattered all that much if he knew his roommate’s last name -- they weren’t getting married or anything, just sharing a dorm. So if he wanted to be reticent, that was fine -- though he did offer it eventually, and the name seemed distantly familiar.
Not that he could remember why, and for the moment, he wasn’t too concerned.
“I’ve lived here for years,” Tristan said, “ever since I was a kid. Just refuse to let go of home.” He went back, every few years if he could set aside enough money, or he had when his mother and Aderyn were still around. They had both liked it, but saving up for just himself didn’t seem worth it when his money needed to go so many other places.
Not that he could remember why, and for the moment, he wasn’t too concerned.
“I’ve lived here for years,” Tristan said, “ever since I was a kid. Just refuse to let go of home.” He went back, every few years if he could set aside enough money, or he had when his mother and Aderyn were still around. They had both liked it, but saving up for just himself didn’t seem worth it when his money needed to go so many other places.
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“Oh,” Prosper said, uncertain about whether or not it was rude to presume that somebody with an accent as thick and foreign as Tristan’s had not grown up in a country where American was the first language. His own family came from a small town in France. Prosper had spent some time there as a boy with his grandparents, but there was no trace of it in his voice. He pressed his lips together and then decided a change of topic was in order.
They were just roommates. His stepfather had only specified that Prosper needed to learn a little bit of humility, if he wanted to keep his credit cards. He hadn’t said anything about getting personal.
And he was maybe a little bit hurt that Tristan hadn’t seemed to recognize his name.
Whatever. Tristan was obviously a nerd. After a moment, Prosper reasoned that it made sense for Tristan to have no idea about who he was. Which was nobody, in point of fact, but Prosper didn’t really know that.
He popped the lid on one his smaller suitcases, started unpacking- bottles of shampoo and conditioner, lotions and facial creams, lufas and bath salts and candles. Prosper had a particular affinity for lavenders and vanillas. He hummed to himself, disappeared into the bathroom so that he could frame the bathtub with all of his favourite toiletries.
“I take up a lot of space,” he called out to Tristan from the bathroom, voice light and unapologetic, “I hope you don’t mind.”
He paused. “You can use the lavender candles if you like, but the vanilla ones are my favourite.”
They were just roommates. His stepfather had only specified that Prosper needed to learn a little bit of humility, if he wanted to keep his credit cards. He hadn’t said anything about getting personal.
And he was maybe a little bit hurt that Tristan hadn’t seemed to recognize his name.
Whatever. Tristan was obviously a nerd. After a moment, Prosper reasoned that it made sense for Tristan to have no idea about who he was. Which was nobody, in point of fact, but Prosper didn’t really know that.
He popped the lid on one his smaller suitcases, started unpacking- bottles of shampoo and conditioner, lotions and facial creams, lufas and bath salts and candles. Prosper had a particular affinity for lavenders and vanillas. He hummed to himself, disappeared into the bathroom so that he could frame the bathtub with all of his favourite toiletries.
“I take up a lot of space,” he called out to Tristan from the bathroom, voice light and unapologetic, “I hope you don’t mind.”
He paused. “You can use the lavender candles if you like, but the vanilla ones are my favourite.”
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Tristan had just the two bags - with Aderyn missing for so long, he had ended up stopping rent payments on their apartment and packing everything up in a storage space instead. He figured that at worst, he could go down there and pull out a box of clothes if he started to run out; the facility wasn’t too far off university grounds. Rent for the storage space was significantly less than for the apartment, and his fairly decent-sized scholarship covered most of the board costs for the dorm.
It was a saner financial decision, but that didn’t mean packing his little sister’s things up hadn’t hurt.
He started unpacking his shoulderbag, pulling out a laptop and associated accessories - and couldn’t help but stare in what was probably an obviously incredulous way at what Prosper was pulling out of his suitcase. He was pretty sure he hadn’t seen that many bath products outside a grocery store before - all of it, he was sure, more expensive than he ever would have been able to spare. If he’d cared at all, he might have been embarrassed at how much less fine his things were, but he had never been embarrassed that his family had less. He worked hard for what he did have, and that was what mattered.
“Doesn’t look like I’ve much of an option but to get out of your way,” he said, and there was the faintest hint of sarcasm in his tone. He busied himself with setting up his laptop, and then reached into a smaller pocket on the bag and pulled out a delicate silver necklace with a triskelion pendant. It was obviously far too small for him - a memento of his sister, since he’d had to put all her other things away. He laid it on the desk, and then started in on his clothes.
It was a saner financial decision, but that didn’t mean packing his little sister’s things up hadn’t hurt.
He started unpacking his shoulderbag, pulling out a laptop and associated accessories - and couldn’t help but stare in what was probably an obviously incredulous way at what Prosper was pulling out of his suitcase. He was pretty sure he hadn’t seen that many bath products outside a grocery store before - all of it, he was sure, more expensive than he ever would have been able to spare. If he’d cared at all, he might have been embarrassed at how much less fine his things were, but he had never been embarrassed that his family had less. He worked hard for what he did have, and that was what mattered.
“Doesn’t look like I’ve much of an option but to get out of your way,” he said, and there was the faintest hint of sarcasm in his tone. He busied himself with setting up his laptop, and then reached into a smaller pocket on the bag and pulled out a delicate silver necklace with a triskelion pendant. It was obviously far too small for him - a memento of his sister, since he’d had to put all her other things away. He laid it on the desk, and then started in on his clothes.
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It wasn’t that the sarcasm on Tristan’s voice went over Prosper’s head. It was more that Prosper did not really care. He had not seen enough of Tristan to have concluded anything other than that his new roommate was very obviously a nerd who lifted more than just his playstation controller. Prosper had accepted enough about his own sexuality to admit he could appreciate the muscles in Tristan’s arms- but not much more than that.
“I left you some room for your washing things,” he said, exiting the bathroom with a cheerful look on his face. Tristan hardly seemed like the sort of man to indulge in any rigorous grooming habits. Prosper suspected he owned a bottle of shampoo, and maybe some kind of awful department store conditioning treatment. But, that was okay. Prosper was pretty sure that was a point that counted in both of their favours. The fewer soaps and lotions and scrubs Tristan needed, the more room there was for the whole of Prosper’s inventory.
“Since you don’t seem to have brought many things with you,” Prosper went on saying as he pulled out a rack for all of his shoes, “I hope you don’t mind if I take the bigger closet.”
He started to take the bigger closet- and then paused when he caught the glimmer of something silver in the corner of his eye. Curious, he moved closer, dropping a pair of shoes on the floor as he went.
“That’s pretty,” he said, pressing a fingertip to the delicate chain, voice soft and genuinely appreciative.
“I left you some room for your washing things,” he said, exiting the bathroom with a cheerful look on his face. Tristan hardly seemed like the sort of man to indulge in any rigorous grooming habits. Prosper suspected he owned a bottle of shampoo, and maybe some kind of awful department store conditioning treatment. But, that was okay. Prosper was pretty sure that was a point that counted in both of their favours. The fewer soaps and lotions and scrubs Tristan needed, the more room there was for the whole of Prosper’s inventory.
“Since you don’t seem to have brought many things with you,” Prosper went on saying as he pulled out a rack for all of his shoes, “I hope you don’t mind if I take the bigger closet.”
He started to take the bigger closet- and then paused when he caught the glimmer of something silver in the corner of his eye. Curious, he moved closer, dropping a pair of shoes on the floor as he went.
“That’s pretty,” he said, pressing a fingertip to the delicate chain, voice soft and genuinely appreciative.
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"Thank you," Tristan said, not that it sounded like he particularly meant it, probably. Alright, so maybe he should try to be more pleasant, since they were going to be living with each other, but he could find excuses to be outside the dorm if things got too terrible. Do schoolwork in literally any other part of the university, and he certainly had a full enough schedule.
"I don't have much," he said, "don't need much really." He was much more of a quick-shower-and-roll-out sort of man, really. "So you're welcome to it." It wasn't like he needed a large closet or a lot of space, and he wasn't going to fight over something that silly just to be contrary.
He would, however, be very contrary over Prosper's hands on his things. He strode over quickly, coming up behind the shorter man and reaching over to grab his hand. His grip wasn't hard enough to bruise or damage, but it was definitely solid.
"I don't care if you spread your sothach all over this room, do not touch my things. Especially not that." His tone was firm and even, but there was a distinct edge to it.
"I don't have much," he said, "don't need much really." He was much more of a quick-shower-and-roll-out sort of man, really. "So you're welcome to it." It wasn't like he needed a large closet or a lot of space, and he wasn't going to fight over something that silly just to be contrary.
He would, however, be very contrary over Prosper's hands on his things. He strode over quickly, coming up behind the shorter man and reaching over to grab his hand. His grip wasn't hard enough to bruise or damage, but it was definitely solid.
"I don't care if you spread your sothach all over this room, do not touch my things. Especially not that." His tone was firm and even, but there was a distinct edge to it.
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To say that Prosper was startled was an understatement. It was not everyday he had his personal space invaded by a man as large and solid as Tristan was. He froze up and would have yanked his hand back from the chain on reflex, if it were not for the way that Tristan seized him. A flush rose to his cheeks, made the freckles on his nose stand out.
He did not know what the word sothach meant, but he understood Tristan anyway. Prosper had crossed some kind of line. Tristan’s reaction was so extreme for such a little thing. It was just a silly pendant on a delicate chain- way too small for Tristan to wear. Who did it belong to, then?
Prosper turned into Tristan after a moment, torn between apologizing and being affronted. His gaze flickered from the hand that held his wrist to the eyes in Tristan’s face. When he opened his mouth, Prosper wasn’t sure what he was going to say-
“Fine,” he said, voice rising an octave. Prosper twisted his arm out of Tristan’s grip, other hand pressing against his chest to put some distance between them. For more reasons than one. “I’m sorry.” The word came out half-hearted, but it was a miracle Tristan got it at all. “I wouldn’t have touched it if I’d known you’d freak out like this.”
Maybe Prosper was the one over reacting. He didn’t know. In a matter of heartbeats he had learned three things that should have been insignificant but which put a soft lump in his throat anyway. One) Tristan had strong hands. Two) Tristan kind of smelled amazing. Three) He really wasn’t cut out for this whole roommate thing. Okay so the third wasn’t really a revelation as much as it was a confirmation. Prosper sighed inwardly and wondered, not for the first time, how hard it would be to live without his credit cards.
He did not know what the word sothach meant, but he understood Tristan anyway. Prosper had crossed some kind of line. Tristan’s reaction was so extreme for such a little thing. It was just a silly pendant on a delicate chain- way too small for Tristan to wear. Who did it belong to, then?
Prosper turned into Tristan after a moment, torn between apologizing and being affronted. His gaze flickered from the hand that held his wrist to the eyes in Tristan’s face. When he opened his mouth, Prosper wasn’t sure what he was going to say-
“Fine,” he said, voice rising an octave. Prosper twisted his arm out of Tristan’s grip, other hand pressing against his chest to put some distance between them. For more reasons than one. “I’m sorry.” The word came out half-hearted, but it was a miracle Tristan got it at all. “I wouldn’t have touched it if I’d known you’d freak out like this.”
Maybe Prosper was the one over reacting. He didn’t know. In a matter of heartbeats he had learned three things that should have been insignificant but which put a soft lump in his throat anyway. One) Tristan had strong hands. Two) Tristan kind of smelled amazing. Three) He really wasn’t cut out for this whole roommate thing. Okay so the third wasn’t really a revelation as much as it was a confirmation. Prosper sighed inwardly and wondered, not for the first time, how hard it would be to live without his credit cards.
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Perhaps his reaction was too violent, too sharp - but it obviously got the point across, and that was what was important. So he let go of Prosper as soon as the other man apologized. He even took a step back, to give him some space.
"It was my sister's," he said. "She's been missing for a year." Prosper at least deserved a little explanation, he supposed, since given the squeak in his voice and the way he jerked away, Tristan had obviously scared him. A useful application of his sheer physical bulk.
"Perhaps you ought to remember that not everything is yours to play with as you like." A shot, but everything in Prosper's attitude indicated he was used to the world rolling over for what he wanted. Tristan could be accommodating, but this was one thing on which he would not move. At all.
"It was my sister's," he said. "She's been missing for a year." Prosper at least deserved a little explanation, he supposed, since given the squeak in his voice and the way he jerked away, Tristan had obviously scared him. A useful application of his sheer physical bulk.
"Perhaps you ought to remember that not everything is yours to play with as you like." A shot, but everything in Prosper's attitude indicated he was used to the world rolling over for what he wanted. Tristan could be accommodating, but this was one thing on which he would not move. At all.
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Prosper was having a moment. Or several moments, all at once. He was still a little bit flushed when Tristan pulled away and tugged awkwardly on the hem of his sweater, which felt suddenly as though it had shrunk several sizes. He was surprised by the news about Tristan’s sister, and experienced a jolt of genuine compassion for his new roommate over the tragedy. Destiny City was a dangerous place. Prosper knew from experience what sort of things lurked in the dark.
He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but wanting to say something nice- that was what people did when they found out their roommate was missing a sister, right? And then closed it. Because Tristan kept talking.
The things he said almost rolled over Prosper’s shoulders as though they were nothing. Almost, but not quite. It was too much like the things Prosper kept hearing from his stepfather to go without registering at least on a level. He pursed his lips, ignored the twinge of insecurity he felt in favour of remembering that Tristan was only going to be in his life for a year.
“I wasn’t going to break it,” Prosper snipped, leaving Tristan’s desk and returning to his side of the room. He started unpacking his own office supplies, pulled out a couple of coloured notebooks and pens with feathered ends. Lamenting the fact that he didn’t have any sort of meaningful memorabilia to forbid Tristan from touching, Prosper said, “I don’t like sharing my pens.”
He opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but wanting to say something nice- that was what people did when they found out their roommate was missing a sister, right? And then closed it. Because Tristan kept talking.
The things he said almost rolled over Prosper’s shoulders as though they were nothing. Almost, but not quite. It was too much like the things Prosper kept hearing from his stepfather to go without registering at least on a level. He pursed his lips, ignored the twinge of insecurity he felt in favour of remembering that Tristan was only going to be in his life for a year.
“I wasn’t going to break it,” Prosper snipped, leaving Tristan’s desk and returning to his side of the room. He started unpacking his own office supplies, pulled out a couple of coloured notebooks and pens with feathered ends. Lamenting the fact that he didn’t have any sort of meaningful memorabilia to forbid Tristan from touching, Prosper said, “I don’t like sharing my pens.”
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As far as Tristan was concerned, all he'd done was assert a completely reasonable right to his own property. He didn't have much - it was really not hard to ask that what he did have not be subject to his roommate's filtering through.
Well, alright - he had things, but most of them were in a storage unit, and he wouldn't be able to get them out until he had enough for an apartment again. Which...would probably be a while, even with DC's often rock-bottom rent.
"I don't care if you were or not," he said, and his tone was completely even. "All I ask is that you don't touch my things, and I'll leave yours alone. Whether they be color or..." And for a brief moment, a slightly teasing smirk crossed his face. "...Pens."
Well, alright - he had things, but most of them were in a storage unit, and he wouldn't be able to get them out until he had enough for an apartment again. Which...would probably be a while, even with DC's often rock-bottom rent.
"I don't care if you were or not," he said, and his tone was completely even. "All I ask is that you don't touch my things, and I'll leave yours alone. Whether they be color or..." And for a brief moment, a slightly teasing smirk crossed his face. "...Pens."
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Prosper had spent all of his childhood running around a mansion where there was nobody to tell him no. He had touched whatever he’d pleased, and done whatever he’d wanted, and the servants all just got out of his way. He had never shared a space with someone who thought they had a right to their own stuff before.
“I don’t know what you mean when you use words like that.” He said, still too hurt by the shot Tristan had taken at his sticky fingers to make his voice as even as Tristan’s was. With that stupid accent. Stupid sexy accent. “I’m not Welsh.”
He started unpacking a box of books by dumping it on his bed. Everything from Wuthering Heights to Vogue magazine tumbled onto the mattress.
“I don’t know what you mean when you use words like that.” He said, still too hurt by the shot Tristan had taken at his sticky fingers to make his voice as even as Tristan’s was. With that stupid accent. Stupid sexy accent. “I’m not Welsh.”
He started unpacking a box of books by dumping it on his bed. Everything from Wuthering Heights to Vogue magazine tumbled onto the mattress.
