Wanting Sera

Chapter 2: No Space Left

By the time I finished my school requirements, my brain felt completely fried.

I flopped backward onto my bed with a groan, staring blankly at the ceiling while exhaustion slowly settled into my body. Between university stress, lack of sleep, and Rouge continuously acting like a menace to society, I genuinely felt one inconvenience away from losing my sanity completely.

The worst part was that his father was actually a good person.

Unfairly good.

Uncle Sam treated Mom better than anyone had in years, and seeing her genuinely happy again after everything she went through made it impossible for me to hate him no matter how complicated this entire situation felt.

Dad’s death destroyed both of us in different ways.

After the cancer took him, it felt like somebody ripped the life out of our house piece by piece until eventually all that remained was silence and grief. Mom smiled less. Talked less. Some days she barely left her room at all.

Then Uncle Sam came along and somehow brought warmth back into her life again.

For the first time in years, she looked genuinely happy.

And honestly?

That mattered more to me than my dislike for Rouge ever would.

I sighed heavily before forcing myself upright.

The heavy feeling sitting in my chest was getting annoying, so I pushed the thoughts away before they could completely ruin my mood.

Right now, I am hungry.

That was the only thing I cared about.

I climbed out of bed wearing nothing except black cycling shorts and a tank top, not bothering to throw on a hoodie since Rouge usually disappeared at night anyway, probably off getting drunk somewhere with his equally irritating friends.

Good.

The less I saw him, the better.

I stepped out into the hallway quietly before heading downstairs, already thinking about what snacks were left in the pantry, when I suddenly froze halfway toward the kitchen.

Voices.

Male voices.

My eyebrows pulled together immediately.

What the hell?

I moved closer cautiously before peeking into the living room and nearly swore out loud when I saw Rouge sprawled comfortably across the couch, surrounded by three of his friends, all of them laughing about something while empty beer bottles sat scattered across the table.

You have got to be kidding me.

I immediately stepped backward before anyone noticed me, my heart starting to pound for an entirely different reason now.

Thankfully, nobody at school knew Rouge, and I was living under the same roof, and I intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

The last thing I needed was for his friends to start talking.

And considering the fact that I was standing here half-dressed in shorts and a tank top? Absolutely not.

Panic immediately started setting in as I glanced around the hallway, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to get back upstairs unnoticed.

Maybe if I moved quietly enough—

“Oh,” a familiar voice drawled behind me. “What a f*****g sight.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a deep voice suddenly spoke right behind me, and for a split second I actually froze in place like an i***t before slowly turning around, only to find Rouge standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and that infuriating smirk already tugging at his lips like he had been waiting for this exact moment just to ruin my already fragile sanity.

He looked me up and down without even trying to hide it, his gaze dragging slowly over my bare legs and tank top in a way that made my skin burn almost instantly, not because it was flattering or anything remotely close to that, but because it felt like he was deliberately making me aware of every inch of exposed skin I suddenly wished I had covered properly before leaving my room.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked casually, like I was the one intruding in my own house, but even before I could answer he was already looking past me toward the living room where his friends were still sitting, completely unaware of the tension building right here in the kitchen.

My arms crossed tightly over my chest as I forced myself to stand my ground, even though the way he was looking at me made me painfully aware of how vulnerable I probably looked right now, and I hated that feeling more than anything else because it was coming from him of all people.

“Why did you bring your friends here without telling me first?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended but honestly not sharp enough for the situation, especially after everything that already happened earlier, especially after I had already spent the entire day trying to erase the humiliation he caused at school from my memory.

Rouge didn’t even react the way normal people would, because instead of answering, his eyes flicked back to me again and then dropped slightly like he was deliberately ignoring my question in favor of something far more annoying.

“And what are you wearing?” he countered, like that was somehow more important than him turning our house into a hangout spot without warning.

I bristled immediately, my frustration spiking all over again as I took a small step forward, refusing to let him redirect this conversation the way he always did when he didn’t feel like taking responsibility for anything.

“What do you care?” I shot back, tightening my arms over my chest even more as if that would somehow block his stare, “I asked you first, Rouge, why did you bring your friends over without telling me when we literally live together now and basic courtesy would be nice for once in your life?”

For a second, I thought maybe he would actually answer properly, but instead he just let out a soft breath of amusement, the kind that made my irritation spike even higher because he wasn’t even trying to take me seriously anymore.

One of his friends suddenly called out from the living room, breaking the moment for just a second, and Rouge turned his head slightly like he was already losing interest in me again, which honestly should have been a relief but somehow made me even more annoyed.

“Bro, what’s taking you so long in there?” his friend called.

Rouge glanced back at me slowly, and that smirk returned immediately like it had never left, only now it felt sharper, more deliberate, like he was fully aware of how uncomfortable he was making me and enjoyed it just a little too much.

He leaned in slightly, close enough that I immediately became aware of how little space there was between us, and his voice dropped just enough that only I could hear it, warm and irritatingly calm as it brushed against my ear.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll make sure none of them see you sneaking back upstairs like some little mouse.”

My entire body stiffened at the words, not because they were loud or aggressive, but because they were too close, too intentional, and I hated the way my heart reacted before my brain could even process anything properly.

Before I could say anything back, he straightened up again like nothing happened, slipping right back into his usual careless expression as if he hadn’t just invaded my personal space and messed with my head on purpose, then turned away and walked back toward the living room without giving me a second glance.

Just like that, he left me standing there.

Completely stuck.

And furious.

I leaned against the counter for a second, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried to calm myself down because getting angry wouldn’t solve anything, even though every part of me wanted to drag him back and wipe that smug look off his face, but instead I forced myself to think logically, because panicking wasn’t going to get me upstairs unnoticed.

I peeked out carefully into the living room again, watching as Rouge casually rejoined his friends like nothing happened, his posture relaxed, his attention already drifting back to his phone while they talked and laughed around him, completely unaware that I was currently trapped in the kitchen because of him.

The worst part was how easily he could switch like that, from invading my space one second to acting like I didn’t exist the next, like I was just something he could mess with whenever he felt bored.

I exhaled slowly and leaned back against the counter again, trying to think of a way out, because walking out there in front of them like this was not an option, absolutely not, especially when I was wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts and already felt like I was one wrong move away from humiliation.

But just as I was thinking of waiting it out, I felt it.

A stare.

I looked up instinctively, and my eyes immediately met Rouge’s from across the room, and I hated how easily he caught me, like he had been waiting for me to look back at him the entire time.

He wasn’t even pretending not to look.

He just watched me.

Completely unbothered.

And somehow that was worse.

Without thinking, purely out of frustration, I lifted my hand and flipped him off from where I stood, not even caring anymore if his friends noticed because at that point I was too irritated to function properly.

For a second, his expression didn’t change.

Then slowly, that same damn smirk widened again, like I had just entertained him instead of insulted him, and he tilted his head slightly before turning back to his friend like I wasn’t even worth reacting to out loud.

Which somehow made me even angrier.

I barely had time to process anything before I heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, and my entire body tensed instantly as I realized one of his friends was walking straight toward me, probably looking for food or something equally inconvenient that would destroy whatever pathetic hiding chance I still had left.

My brain didn’t even properly think.

I just moved.

I dropped down immediately and slid under the counter, curling myself tightly into the smallest space possible while pressing a hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet, my heart already hammering so loudly I was sure it could give me away at any second.

Above me, I heard his voice.

“Man, I’m hungry,” one of the guys said, opening cabinets. “Is there anything here?”

For a moment there was rummaging, random movement, and the sound of footsteps shifting around the kitchen while I stayed completely still, barely breathing, praying he would just leave already and not think twice about checking anything below eye level.

“Get out,” Rouge’s voice suddenly cut in, calm but firm enough to make it clear he wasn’t in the mood for anyone lingering.

There was a pause, a complaint, and then slow movement away from the counter, and I almost let out a breath of relief right there if not for the fact that I still didn’t move, because I wasn’t taking any chances yet.

“Wait,” the friend suddenly said again, and my entire body went rigid. “Why does it smell sweet in here?”

My stomach dropped instantly.

No.

No, no, no.

I pressed my hand tighter over my mouth, forcing myself not to make a sound as panic started creeping up my spine, because there was no way he was actually going to—

“Did you bake something?” the friend added.

Silence.

Then Rouge’s voice again, slower this time, almost lazy.

“There’s nothing here,” he said simply, and something about the tone made it sound final in a way that didn’t invite further questions. “Just get out.”

And finally, footsteps retreated.

A door closed.

Silence settled.

I barely had time to exhale before the space above me shifted, and when I looked up, Rouge was suddenly there, crouched slightly as he leaned down under the counter with that same damn expression like he had been expecting to find me there all along.

“Well,” he murmured, eyes flicking over me in quiet amusement, “what do we have here?”

My breath caught immediately, and before I could even think, I shoved myself out from under the counter and stood up so fast I almost lost my balance, my hand pressing against his chest just to create space between us as I glared up at him with everything I had left.

“You’re seriously too much,” I snapped, voice shaking slightly from adrenaline and frustration. “Do you actually enjoy messing with me that much, or are you just incapable of behaving like a normal person for even five minutes?”

But he just looked down at me like I was the one being unreasonable, like I was the one causing all the chaos in this situation, and that alone made my anger spike all over again until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I turned sharply, ready to leave before I said something I would regret, but I barely made it two steps before his hand suddenly wrapped around my wrist and pulled me back, firm enough that I stumbled slightly before being forced to face him again.

“What the f**k are you doing?” I snapped immediately, trying to pull away, but his grip didn’t loosen.

“Stay still,” he said quietly, voice lower now, sharper in a way that didn’t match his earlier teasing at all, and for a second it actually made me pause. “Do you really think you can just walk out there like that?”

His eyes dropped again briefly, then came back to mine, and I suddenly became very aware of everything at once, of the situation, of how close he was, of how stupidly exposed I probably looked, and I hated that he was the one pointing it out.

Then, just as quickly as he grabbed me, he let go.

“Just stay here,” he said, already turning away. “I’ll deal with them.”

And before I could even respond, he was already walking out, leaving me standing there again with my heart still racing for reasons I absolutely refused to think about.