From The Midnite Chronicles
“Mont! I swear to the gods if you don’t get in here and pick up your dirty socks, I am going to stuff a pillow with your feathers!” I exclaim, stepping on the third dirty sock this morning.
There’s a crash and then the sound of someone staggering around upstairs. Another crash, muted swearing, and Mont appears at the top of the stairs, “That’s not fair. You leave pencils and paper everywhere, and I don’t threaten to stuff pillows with your feathers,” he states, crossing his arms.
“It’s my house, and you were supposed to only be here for a few days,” I justify.
“So?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow as he looks up from picking up one of the socks I stepped on earlier.
“It’s been three months,” I answer flatly...