Basement Betrayal Pt. 5
Euro Masterlist 𐴱 Lords of Chaos Masterlist 𐴱 Rory Culkin Masterlist 𐴱 Main Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Pinned Post 𐴱 Moodboard side-Blog 𐴱 More Roommate!Reader A/N: This is part 5 of my Basement Betrayal miniseries with Roommate!Reader PARTS: 1 𐴱 2 𐴱 3 𐴱 4 𐴱 5 𐴱 6 Series Masterlist
Summary: Øystein comes back with provisions and lets something slip.
You made yourself comfortable and had just started to doze off again when you heard the chime of the bell above the door.
You sat up and cleared your throat as quietly as you could before sipping the water Faust had brought you.
Øystein’s eyes locked onto you the second he’d cleared the counter, carrying a Tupperware container full of broth and a bottle of cough syrup. He set everything down and rested his chin on the edge of the bunk.
“You’re awake.”
“Barely.” You cracked a tired smile and winced when you realised that your lips were painfully chapped.
“What?” He was frowning.
“Is my chapstick down there?” You poked her head out of the lofted space and looked down at your own bed, but almost pitched right over the side of the bed, completely off balance in your still half-asleep state. “I need it.”
You gasped, but Øystein caught you by the shoulders and nudged you back onto the mattress with a disapproving look.
"I'll get it."
“Which one?” He scoffed, ducking into your little cavern. “There’s like twenty of them in here.”
“Is there a blue one?”
“There’s two.” Øystein re-emerged with both and tossed them up to you, watching as you promptly coated your lips with one and sighed in relief.
“Thank you.”
The slight sheen it left on your lips had him wanting to kiss you so badly that he seriously considered just yanking you down just so he could, but you were sick, and he knew you were just gonna push him away, so he shook the thought from his mind.
“Are you okay?” he propped himself up against the counter and sent you a sympathetic look. “You slept through most of the day.”
“I was up for a little while when you were gone,” you yawned, rubbing your face with your hands. “Saw Jan and Faust for a minute before they left.”
“Everything hurts.”
“Do you want some soup?”
“I can’t tell if I’m hungry.”
“I don’t think you ate anything at all yesterday.” Øystein frowned. “And you haven’t had anything today either, so you should try.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding as you pulled yourself over to the ladder and let your legs dangle, “You’re right.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard those words come out of your mouth.” He smirked, shaking his head.
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, trying to focus on getting yourself down the ladder, “you caught me in a weak moment obviously.”
“Be careful.” Øystein grabbed you as gently as he could by the waist and helped you the rest of the way down, immediately concerned when you started to sway a little. “Sit down.”
You tried to wave him off and staggered towards your bed, dizzy all of a sudden.
You plopped yourself down at the center of your mattress and immediately felt the chill without the pile of blankets.
Øystein seemed to notice this and grabbed a few from his bed to wrap around you. You immediately pulled them tight and gave him a grateful nod.
He poured some of the still-steaming broth into a clean-looking mug and brought it over to you, settling in next to you in an attempt to share some of his body heat.
“Where did this come from?” You took little sips and looked up at him through your lashes. “Doesn’t look store-bought.”
“It’s not.” His cheeks warmed a little
“My mom made it,” he confessed, looking a bit sheepish. “I told her you were sick.”
“Your mom doesn’t even know who I am.” Your brows pulled together. “I’ve never met her, and she was willing to make me soup? That was very nice of her.”
“I may have mentioned you once or twice,” Øystein admitted, looking away with pink cheeks.
“Did you, now?” you raised your brow and shot him a teasing smile. “What exactly are you telling your mother about me?”
“You tell her I’m your girlfriend or something?”
He grimaced.
“Øystein.” You said his name slowly, eyes wide in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
“She just assumed, and I didn’t correct her!” He blurted out, still looking anywhere but your eyes, beyond embarrassed.
“How long have you been pretending I’m your girlfriend?” you sounded baffled.
“I have not been-” He started to get defensive
“How long?” You said louder, your voice hoarse.
“Since we opened the shop,” the words poured out of his mouth despite trying desperately to keep it shut. He’d already dug himself quite a hole, but he just couldn’t stop.
“Since we opened the shop?” you gaped at him, thoughts racing.
“Oh, my god.” you sighed after a minute letting your head fall into your free hand “You fucking asshole.”
“Okay, look, I’m sorry-” he started fumbling over his words, but you cut him off again.
“Just shut up for a minute.” You waved him off. “So, you mean to tell me that your mom thinks you have a girlfriend, and she’s never asked to meet me?”
“She’s dying to meet you, actually-”
“Øystein!” you groaned, “So you’ve made me out to be a terrible fake girlfriend, then. She probably thinks I’m dodging her and being a bitch!”
“That’s what you’re gonna fixate on?” He relaxed a little. He expected more of a pissed off, creeped out reaction, but you sounded irritated and shocked more than anything. “We live together, lots of people assume that we’re a couple. It’s always been like that.”
“And you haven’t been correcting any of them?” Your eyes widened, and he immediately regretted his choice of words.
“I don’t go around telling people you’re my girlfriend,” he clarified.
“Right. You just let them think I am” You shook your head, but couldn’t help the little smirk tugging at your lips. “You really are just a big softie, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.” He argued weakly, a little taken aback by the shift, “You’re not mad?”
“I probably should be.” You shrugged, over the initial shock of it all. “I dunno, I think it’s kinda cute.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “How long have I been your girlfriend in that big head of yours? Huh?”
“Since the second I laid eyes on you,” Øystein answered without thinking.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you had to cough, careful not to spill the broth all over yourself.
Despite his embarrassment, Øystein rubbed your back and looked down at you with concern.
“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face once you were finished.
“Yeah,” You sighed tiredly, but you were still smiling teasingly. “Softie.”
“Hurry up and get better.” He rolled his eyes and pulled you into his side. “There’s nothing soft about what I’m gonna do to you once you are.”
You felt your cheeks flush and your panties dampen.
Part 6
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