Only thing I own is the story.
Turns out I'm trying really hard to procrastinate doing my thesis, which is how I ended up completely re-writing this chapter and that's how the word count went from 1,824 to 3,474... now that I got acquainted with this idea again, I think I will write more, I definitely will because I want to see it finished.
Anyway, I invite those who already read it to give it another go, since I did change a few things. Starting by the fact that I split the first chapter into prologue and chap 1, kind of a shitty thing to do, I know, but I think it was a necessary change. I swear I will try to update and post the second (now third) chapter as soon as possible.
Hopefully you can leave a comment; I'd like to know what you think about this.
Oh, this would be so cool.
Finally, finally he'd be out of his father's house –and not a moment too soon if you asked him- not that it mattered since half the time he was locked up in his office, and out on business trips the other half, but still, it was stifling just being in that place.
Living on campus would be good, good for everyone involved even, his father, himself, even Jarvis, since he wouldn't have to act like the middle man between father and son, honestly, that man deserves a medal, and a raise and vacations. Only downside so far was the fact that he had to move all of his crap by himself -and he had a lot of crap, amazing what one little person can collect through their life really.
Up side, on the other hand, was that the dorm was pretty awesome, and the parties he'd or more like they'd (since having a roommate was mandatory) have here were going to be legen-wait for it-dary. Thank god it wasn't one of those dingy single rooms with two single beds on opposite sides and barely any room left for activities you saw on movies. This dorm –more like apartment- was great, if a bit over the top and most likely something not very many could afford, but whatever else, no one could say Howard Stark was a cheap.
It was roomy, lots of open space which was good because he could get sort of claustrophobic, it had a loft-y feel to it; a high ceiling to accommodate the second plant that housed the other bedroom he supposed –hadn't ventured that far yet-, the main room was a big rectangle with the kitchen just by the door and a big-ass column holding up the ceiling, 'good' he thought, 'wouldn't want that falling on us'; the kitchen and the living-room were divided by a kitchen island or whatever the thing was called, there were two doors left –or right, it depended if you were facing in or out- to the principal, the first one was a bathroom and the second one a good sized bedroom and just outside that a staircase that led to the, no doubt, identical bedroom/bathroom upstairs. The grand prize though, had to be the far wall opposite to the front door; it was all glass from top to bottom (even in the bedroom), sliding door included to go out to the balcony. Score! Chicks dig balconies and a good view.
He would have to channelize his inner interior designer because a place this awesome should be accordingly furnished. The ideas were already flowing; first things on the list were a big sofa and an even bigger flat screen for making out and movie night respectively (actually, his bed was first on the list but that was taken care of and would be delivered first hour tomorrow). Hopefully his roommate had a bit of taste since he would have to get his input in at least some of the things.
Right. His roommate.
He should arrive any minute now, with any luck the guy would be cool; it wouldn't do at all to have a douche bag as a roommate, and oh, for all things holy, let him be at least a little bit smart, obviously no one could be as smart as him, but someone that could hold a conversation for five minutes would be good, no requests on the looks department though, he could live with a troll, he just hoped the guy wasn't one of those godly good looking guys, no need for competition with the ladies after all.
Well, 'competition' was a strong word since very few people could really be a competition to the wit and charm of Tony Stark, billionaire extraordinaire.
He thought back to the woman at the office (a solid 7½ ), she hadn't given anything away with her stern face, she didn't even look awe-struck by his presence, only thing he could get out of her (although he suspected she only did it because she wanted him to go away) was the guy's name, sadly it went right over his head, it was a strange name. Names are just not his thing (ladies were his thing).
He took one last look around, hands on his hips and everything, sighed heavily and started moving in at last.