IRIS
“Baby, what is all of this?”Elliot asks, thumbing through a stack of pictures.
“Oh. I printed some photos out so your new room won’t look like a serial killer sleeps there,” I say, taking the little pile from him.
I leaf through them, showing him the enchanted images of Dame, Kitty, Elsie, and me over the last four years. There are a few from first-year, but I kept those to a minimum on account of how innocent we all look. That wore off quickly.
Most of them are from second year. A few concerts we went to, some random nights at the pack house, and way too many blurry shots of us post Fright Night.
Dred’s in a couple of them, too, but I figure Elliot will get sick of looking at his stupid face in a couple of days, so I decided not to exacerbate it by also plastering it all over the walls.
“I figured you might start to miss us,” I say, passing him the stack.
Elliot’s brow lifts.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asks.
“No. But you’re leaving Crescent House, so you won’t see them as much. And this is further from Whitehall than before.”
“You’re a fifteen-minute ride away,” he reminds me.
I shrug.
“Feels far.”
Elliot shakes his head, smiling as I pass back the photos to finish sorting the box in front of me.
Considering how barren his room was at Crescent House, I was surprised to see so many boxes. But I’m pretty sure most of them are books.
He must have had another stash under the bed or something because there’s way more than I remember.
Good thing Dred’s apartment is huge.
“Alright!” Tysin, a sweet sun nymph, and one of Dred’s other two roommates, comes bouncing into the room dressed head to toe in black. “I cleared a couple of shelves in the bathroom so you don’t have to fight Dred and Ethan for space. But make sure you claim it quickly or Dred will assume it’s for him.”
Tysin smiles broadly, practically glittering under the kitchen lights, while Elliot and I merely roll our eyes.
It’s a funny dichotomy watching Tysin. The bright, bubbly personality cloaked in a dark exterior. I would say it’s odd, but it seems like no one in this house has ever heard of a color other than black. I’m surprised they even let me in with my hot pink sweatpants.
“Thanks, Ty,” Elliot says.
“Her name is Tysin to you!” Dred shouts from his room.
Elliot chuckles as he goads Dred once again.
“Gods, does he hear everything?” I ask.
“Everyone hears everything in this house,” a soft voice murmurs from a dark corner of the living room.
Ethan, the dark-haired boy I’d seen at Beta a couple of weeks ago, is sitting on the sofa, thumbing through a book. He doesn’t look up as he speaks.
“Better get used to it,” he says.
“Can’t be any worse than ninety wolves listening in all the time,” Elliot says.
“Just ignore him,” Ty adds.
“That’s what we do,” Ethan finishes. “I recommend earplugs.”
