I can't sleep. Which, in all honesty, is nothing new to me. Perhaps being on my laptop is keeping me up but if I lie in bed, in the dark, my thoughts will keep me awake instead, staring into the darkness and wishing my mind could just learn to turn the hell off. But that's too much to ask.

With a sigh, I close my laptop, not moving until I see the little light blink out signifying that it is, finally, fully off. Satisfied, I rise slowly from my chair and stumble next door into the kitchen – one of the many advantages of having my bedroom downstairs is that it's right beside the kitchen. In addition, I won't wake the others when I get up for 2am snacks. Like right now. My dorm mates can be very… particular about certain things and apparently being awoken at 2am is one of them.

I wander through the dark kitchen and, after a quick detour via the fridge, into the dining room; as soon as I opened the fridge, the phantom huger I'd felt left me. I walk as slowly as I can to the French windows, trying the handle and finding, to my horror, that they are unlocked. A flicker of panic runs through me. Why the hell is the back door open? Didn't anyone check it? I hurriedly lock it and deadbolt it, with suddenly shaking hands and the distinct feeling of being watched. It’s nothing. I know it's nothing. This happens all the time and exactly who is gonna break into our house? What could a load of broke uni students have that was worth stealing? Not a lot is the answer. Unless you're hungry I suppose. But even then, you'd be lucky to find more than a few days’ worth of food considering none of us have done our grocery shopping in about a week.

The shaking doesn't cease even as I make my way back to the kitchen so I flick the light on, deciding to make myself a hot chocolate and calm myself down. I lean against the counter as I wait for the kettle to bowl, directing a disinterested gaze at the amount of crap piled into the sink. None of it’s mine; I do my washing up as I use things unlike pretty much everyone else here.

Eventually the kettle clicks off, signifying that the water’s boiled. I've also stopped shaking which is definitely a bonus when boiling water is involved. I pull one of my mugs out of the cupboard above the counter, inwardly thanking the heavens that no one stashed them on the top shelf again – last time I had to climb to get them down. I have no idea if that was done on purpose or not. The hot chocolate is already on the side so it doesn't take long for me to measure out the right amount. I turn to go to the fridge and fetch the milk and the watched feeling returns, the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck all standing to attention at once. Why am I so jumpy? I swear I see a shadow flicker across the doorway.

“Hello, is there someone there?” I ask. Silence. It's like I'm following a really awful horror movie script or something. “Hyosang?” Still more silence. He's the only other person I'd expect to be up right now. No one else has sleep troubles. But apparently it isn't him. With a sigh, I continue in my task of fetching the milk and make my hot chocolate.

I'm just about to pick it up, ready to go back to my room when, suddenly, the tension I'm feeling increases tenfold. I freeze, one hand stretched out, and hold my breath. I can hear someone breathing, and, in fact, I can feel their breath on my neck. What the actual flip is happening right now?

I should hit them. Kick them in the balls! But what if it's one of the girls? Or any girl? Does that still hurt? Surely a kick to the groin still hurts….

“Your heart is beating so fast…” Right a guy, okay. His voice is low and husky, unfamiliar. It sends a shiver down my spine. I want to cry out but my voice is stuck in my throat. This isn't one of my roommates and – wait, what did he just say!? “Like a rabbit. I wonder if you could scare to death like a rabbit.” It takes all my courage to turn around, clenching my fists at my side. I come face to chest with whoever it is, taking another deep breath before I finally look up to see this creepster’s face.

He’s gorgeous. Freaking hell, why is he gorgeous? A round face with wide eyes and well defined brows. Silver hair swept elegantly off his face and a pronounced undercut. He smirks at my sharp intake of breath upon taking in his features and so help me he has fudging dimples! This is in no way okay! Who the frick frack is this and what are they doing in my house!?

“H-how did you get in?” I force out, backing away from his piercing gaze and immediately bumping into the surface behind me. His eyes are strange, a kind of yellowy-brown that I've never seen on anyone before and his pupils are a slightly irregular shape, seeming to fade into the iris rather than having a properly defined perimeter. It's kind of weird actually…

“Through the front door like any normal person.” The sarcasm practically drips from his voice.

“And are you a normal person?” It slips out before I have time to moderate myself. He doesn't reply just smirks and taps his nose - that's for me to know and you to find out. Just fantastic.

This guy really doesn't have any sense of personal space. He's standing right in front of me for heaven’s sake, forcing me to look up uncomfortably to see his face as he looms over me. He leans a little closer. Why are you moving closer!? I lean away, the edge of the counter digging a little painfully into my lower back.

“W-what are you d-doing here?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, eyes wide. Literally, what is wrong with this guy and why is he here?

He blinks.

“What?” I stare back at him as he straightens up, blinking his weird yellow eyes at me in confusion.

“Why are you here?” I repeat, finally gaining some space to breathe.

“I live here.” He says, brows furrowed. Excuse me, what?

Hello sweeties!

Cliffhanger! :D

This chapter seems pretty short, right? ^^; I'm trying something new with this fic; shorter chapters which will hopefully result in more frequent updates (hopefully)! I hope you like it ~

Please, tell me what you think ;3