Lalli, as it turned out, seemed to live solely off of cookies. Emil certainly didn't envy his dentist.

"Isn't this awful for his teeth?" Emil had asked Tuuri after they watched Lalli eat his way through an entire packet of Maryland cookies. Tuuri just shrugged.

"He's never had a cavity."

Emil refused to believe that.

"He's probably just not told you." Emil argued.

"I'm in charge of his dentist appointments." Tuuri proudly replied, "I'd know."

Emil just grunted and drank his tea.

Three days before their lectures were due to start, a huge bear of a man arrived. He introduced himself as Mikkel, and had somehow managed to assimilate into their household with very little input other than sarcastic comments and very poor dad jokes.

Mikkel was a genius when it came to baking cookies. If Lalli had ever clambered somewhere to hide and they couldn't find him, simply enlisting Mikkel to bake a batch of cookies, or rattling the cookie jar, summoned him. Emil was nearly convinced that if Lalli were a demon, all one would need to do is place a pile of cookies inside a pentagram and wait.

"So, as our newest housemate, Mikkel! You can choose what we have for dinner." Tuuri said as the five of them were crammed around the table. Sigrun had Google open on her phone so they could simply type in what they desired, and menus from various takeaways were littered on the table. Mikkel stroked his chin.

"I thought I was the last to arrive?"

The others looked at each other. "What?"

"But there are six rooms?" Emil replied.

"The sixth housemate pulled out unexpectedly." Mikkel said.

"How do you know this?" Sigrun narrowed her eyes at him. Mikkel gave one of his signature quirks of his mouth.

"I have kept in correspondence with the landlady."

"You silver fox, you." Sigrun punched his arm. "So! Special dinner tonight, then!"

"I vote Chinese!"

The word Chinese seemed to instil a sense of excitement into everyone; except Lalli, but no one ever really knew what he was thinking. So they grabbed the menu to their local, and began to write down their orders on the back of an envelope.

"So how did you guys do Chinese takeaways with your families?" Tuuri asked as she twirled the pen in her fingers. "We just picked what we wanted and ate what we had."

"My family picked their own noodles and shared the other dishes." Emil replied, running some fingers through his hair.

"What?" Sigrun dropped her phone on the table and rounded on Emil. "I do the exact opposite!"

"Many varied views." Mikkel rumbled.

Eventually, they decided a pick and mix was the best option. That way, Emil thought, Lalli would be able to find at least one thing he liked and actually eat something that wasn't a cookie.

While Mikkel gave their impressive food order to the restaurant on the telephone, Tuuri went about setting up the table while Sigrun 'helped' (read: watched while she chatted utter shit). Lalli had retreated into his room, leaving Emil standing awkwardly in the living room, not sure what to do with himself.

"Oh! Emil!" Tuuri poked her head out the kitchen. "Could you go get us some drinks?"

"Like what?" Emil asked as he went to put his shoes on.

"Anything really. I'd like some lemonade, can you ask Lalli what he wants?"

"Sure."

Emil gently knocked on Lalli's door.

"Lalli?"

No response.

Curious, he opened the door and peered inside. The window was wide open, the curtains billowing in a gentle breeze. Lalli was nowhere to be seen.

Emil had a vague idea of where he could be.

Sighing to himself, Emil tromped upstairs and into his room. Sure enough, there Lalli was, perched in the tree again and fast asleep.

"He's going to catch a cold." Emil grumbled as he grabbed a spare blanket and wondered what the best way to throw it at him was.

The wind decided for him, ripping it out of his hands before he realised what was happening. Barely stifling his gasp, Emil watched in barely restrained horror as the blanket flew...

... Straight onto Lalli. Well, at least it kind of reached its target, right? Emil grabbed his wallet and his earphones after a moments consideration before going back downstairs.

"He's asleep." Emil said as he pulled on his coat. "What does he usually drink?"

"Some days bubbles irritate him, other days they don't." Tuuri hummed in reply. "Just get him some apple juice."

"Anything else I'm getting?" Emil asked.

"I am fine with what we have." Mikkel replied. Sigrun shouted out her order of coke - cherry coke, Emil hastily reminded himself. The cherry was important. She'd shouted it three times.

Zipping his coat up, Emil stepped outside.

Dinner was a traumatic event.

That wasn't to say it was bad; no, quite the opposite. It was wonderful in retrospect, and something Emil would come to look back on fondly, but at the time?

He'd wished that it'd be over.

Once Emil found the supermarket, he grabbed two bottles of lemonade, a bottle of cherry coke, and a couple cartons of apple juice. After a few moments of consideration, he picked up a bottle of appletiser. Maybe Lalli would tolerate this? The woman serving him at the checkout didn't even spare him a glance as she scanned in his items and spewed their rehearsed lines in the same deadpan tone. He paid and hastily left.

When he got home, Sigrun had grabbed the drinks from him and dumped them on the side. Emil put the juice in the fridge and watched in fascination as Sigrun opened up the cherry coke and drank straight from the bottle.

Savage!

Tuuri came in a few moments later and visibly bit her cheek to stop herself from making a comment – despite Sigrun being, as best as Emil could describe, a noodle, she had somehow managed to get herself on to the top of the pecking order in their house. They'd all put it down to her military background but they weren't always so sure. Tuuri knew better than to scold her.

Emil ran upstairs to dump his things back in his room and quickly checked outside his window. Lalli wasn't there anymore, and nor was his blanket. Humming to himself, Emil returned downstairs and got himself a drink while he waited for the Chinese to arrive.

Lalli had eventually emerged from his room when he heard the words 'we have apple juice' being whispered through the crack in his door, and he had helped himself to a glass of appletiser after a moments consideration (Emil hid his smile in his own drink, and he'd deny it that he was grinning if anyone asked). He plonked himself down on the sofa next to Emil, nursing the glass in both hands, and quietly listened to the conversations going on around him. Sigrun and Mikkel seemed to be sharing military stories – it turned out that Mikkel had also been in the army, although he'd left of his own accord for reasons he wasn't willing to divulge – and Tuuri was eagerly listening like a puppy. Emil had been listening and chipping in his own stories, but he'd been quickly distracted by Lalli. There were still leaves in his hair.

Gingerly, he leaned over and plucked one out. Lalli twitched and narrowed his eyes at him before Emil simply brandished the leaf and the look melted away. Lalli pushed his glass into Emil's hands and he ran his fingers through his hair, working out any remaining leaves and throwing them onto a paper towel Tuuri had set out for him. He folded the leaves into it and got up to chuck it in the bin, getting himself another paper towel before returning.

The other three had been too engrossed in their own conversation to notice, despite being less than four feet away. Emil was glad for that.

And then the Chinese arrived. Mikkel graciously handled the delivery man while the others arranged themselves around their small table and bickered about what Harry Potter to put on while they ate ("Chamber of Secrets is the best one!"
"Are you joking? The Goblet of Fire wins by far."), and Lalli poured himself another glass.

Eventually they'd decided to start from the beginning with The Philosophers Stone, and had agreed to watch the next one every Saturday. How long that would last for Emil didn't know, but it felt… good, to have plans with the people he lived with. To have a set time to spend at least a little time together. It wasn't something he ever got at home.

But then hell began.

Emil hadn't ever really explored with his food. He considered himself a picky eater, so many things he turned his nose up at without even trying them. It was a tremendous downfall and something he hated about himself, so as he looked at the various take-out containers that covered their coffee table, he decided to branch out a little.

And bit straight into a chilli.

He couldn't feel his tongue, his eyes immediately streaming as he began choking. Sigrun laughed at his misfortune, stumbling up to get him a glass of milk while wiping tears from her eyes. Mikkel simply shook his head at him and made sure Emil hadn't actually eaten the chilli, while Tuuri and Lalli hid their laughter behind their hands. Emil narrowed his eyes at them while he guzzled the milk Sigrun handed to him. Traitors.

Once Emil could feel his face again, he picked everything red off his plate and dumped it onto his paper towel. Not this time, you red devils. His eyes were still watering, but not so badly as to blur his vision. With as much grace as he could muster, he continued eating.

Until he noticed Lalli staring at him. Uncertain, Emil slowly lowered his fork and looked down at himself. Had he spilled something-

Oh, bastard! He had!

His face burned and almost turned as red as it did when he'd eaten the chilli, and he quickly excused himself to get another paper towel to wipe his shirt down.

How embarrassing!

Once they'd all finished eating, Emil helped with putting the leftovers away. Mostly to keep himself away from Lalli, who kept staring at him. It made him feel slightly self-conscious. Had he spilled something down himself again? Was something on his face?

Tuuri came in with the empty cartons. "Are you okay?" She asked Emil when she saw him standing still at the side, both hands braced on the counter top. "Did you eat another chilli?"

Emil hastily shook his head. "No, no. I'm fine." He assured her, ensuring the lid was properly on a takeout box and shoving it into the fridge. "Honestly."

"Is Lalli staring at you again?" Tuuri asked with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, he does that a lot. He's probably waiting for you to do something again."

"It's fine." Emil assured her. He felt a little better now he knew why Lalli was continuing to stare – he was probably waiting for Emil to spill food down his front again.

Ugh.

Sure enough, when he came back and sat on the sofa, Lalli didn't spare him much more than a glance.

Their courses weren't so bad, they supposed.

The introductory week went by as expected: very easy. The course was simply outlined, and then some of the basic subject matter was touched upon to ease them into it.

Week two was a little harder. They were getting deeper into the subject, building on old concepts they'd done at A-level. Nothing too spectacular. Week three was the same, as was week four. Manageable. They could do this.

But then came week 5. Reports and essays were due, class tests were on the horizon; work was to be done. While Mikkel and Sigrun didn't even seem to be fazed in the slightest by the abrupt change in pace, the two simply breezing through it while relaxing with their laptops on their knees and a mug of coffee clasped in their hand, a pen in their free one, Tuuri, Emil, and Lalli did not fare so well. Tuuri spent most of her time at university, knuckling down in the library and in her various study groups (no one knew quite how she'd found the things), Lalli simply quietly studied and read various journals and books, scrunching his hands in his hair and sometimes ripping it out when he got too overwhelmed, while Emil suffered.

Why did he pick this degree? Why? He should have done something else. Philosophy would have been better. Then again, Mikkel was on that course. He couldn't have that. Perhaps a History degree then. Much better. Or even a language degree.

If he saw one more state symbol, he was going to punch himself out and throw himself off the roof. Possibly while gnawing off his own leg.

His saving grace came in the form of a classmate. Oona was a pretty brown haired girl with the biggest green eyes Emil had ever seen. She had approached him after one particularly gruelling lecture and had suggested that they study together some time, which was why Oona was going home with him that day.

Emil unlocked the front door and let Oona in before him. She thanked him as she slipped her shoes off and shook the snow from her hood.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Emil asked her as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing at his hands to fight off the worst of the cold.

"Tea would be lovely."

Emil grabbed the fruity teas down, selecting the cinnamon apple flavour before putting the kettle on to boil. He took out two mugs before dumping in the teabags.

"So what topic should we start on?" Emil conversationally asked as Oona slipped into a seat at the kitchen table, taking her textbook and phone out of her bag.

"I'm struggling a little on the environmental side. Could we start on that area?"

"Sounds good to me." He replied as the kettle clicked, signalling it was done. He poured out the hot water, gave them a stir, and put them onto the kitchen table with a little tea bag plate in between them. Oona thanked him as she flicked through the pages of her textbook.

Lalli peered in from the living room. He was sprawled out under a blanket on the settee, peeking out over the arm with narrowed eyes. Who was this stranger? Why was she with Emil? What was she doing here?

He had zero intention of moving to find out, however.

Tuuri, on the other hand, did not seem to get the message of 'do not disturb us' and tromped straight into the kitchen. She acted surprised when she saw Oona as if she hadn't been intently watching them walking down the path towards their house, and listening in on their conversation for the past five minutes.

"Oh!" She had mock gasped, hand fluttering to her chest, "I'm sorry I didn't realise you were here! You must be Oona, I'm Tuuri."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Oona replied, pausing in her note taking.

"Likewise. I'll just grab some juice and leave you be."

Oona simply got back to taking her notes. Tuuri grabbed some apple juice and went back into the living room, drawing the curtain that separated the two rooms and blocking off Lalli's line of sight.

"Hey!" He hissed at her.

"It's rude to stare." She simply hissed back. "I grabbed you some juice, I know you haven't had anything to drink today." She placed the juice beside Lalli on the floor. "It's apple."

Lalli grumbled a thank you.

This seemed to satisfy Tuuri, as she retreated into her room. Lalli could hear her furiously tapping away on her keyboard and could only assume she was engrossed in her gossip circles again, nattering away to others who seemed to care about this kind of drivel.

Although, Lalli silently admitted to himself, he did also quite enjoy a bit of gossip now and then. Emil? Desperately so.

He didn't know about Mikkel, though. It felt as though he would relish in gossip, however Lalli had never seen him actively pursue it at all.

Lalli wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voice of the stranger to stop and vanish.

Tuuri would scold him terribly for this, he knew, but he couldn't stay in there. The stranger was unsettling, very very unsettling, and he did not like her. Not one little bit!

So, of course, he ran. He ran and he ran and he ran.

His arms were sore from where he'd picked and scratched at them, drawing blood and ripping skin. It would be sensitive for a few days, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to be too bothered by it.

The cold bit at his feet, rain soaking him through to the bone. The flimsy coat he'd thought to bring with him as he clambered out the window wasn't doing much in the way of warmth, but it kept the worst of the cold out and it did keep his upper body dry. His shoes were sodden and heavy, however, and he had little faith that they'd be the same when they dried out.

When Lalli finally looked up, he found that he'd ran into the park. It was a good 20 minute walk from the apartment - 10 if you ran like he did - so he was fairly confident that he wouldn't be found so soon. The trees offered some solace from the rain, so Lalli found a bench that was placed under one, and perched on the damp surface. He curled himself up into a ball, tucking his legs under his coat, rested his forehead against his knees, and began to hum.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it.

His phone vibrated again, more insistent. He ignored it.

A few moments passed, and Lalli thought he was finally going to be left alone, when his phone vibrated again. And again. And again, in a rhythm. Someone was trying to call him. Groaning, Lalli wriggled his phone out of his wet pocket and looked at the caller ID. Tuuri.

Lalli considered putting the phone back in his pocket, but decided not to. He simply stared at his screen, wondering what to do, when the call dropped.

Oops.

With numb fingers, he gingerly unlocked his phone and went to call Tuuri back. Evidently she had beaten him to it, as not even a second after he had fumbled in his passcode did his phone start vibrating with a call again.

Gingerly, he answered.

The Finnish that spilled out of his phone would have put every sailor that graced this docks at home to shame. She sounded like she'd been crying.

"Lalli!" She gasped once she'd finished her furious tirade, "Where are you?!"

"Outside." He replied. His teeth were chattering.

"Why? Why did you run away?"

"That stranger was weird. Didn't want to be near her."

"Don't be rude." Tuuri scoffed. "Come home. Now."

"Is she still there?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then no." Lalli replied before putting the phone down. He could almost hear the offended sound Tuuri would have squawked in indignation.

He put his phone onto do not disturb and crammed it back into his pocket, returning to his previous position. Streetlights around him began to flicker, the wind picking up slightly.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone so far. His legs felt like lead and his head swam. If anyone tried to start anything with him, Lalli wasn't sure if he'd be able to get away or even put up some kind of resistance. Nobody would be nearby to help him, or even to hear him.

"-li!"

Lalli twitched. Who was shouting at this time?

"-alli!" The voice sounded closer now, and he could hear rapid footsteps. Someone was running towards him.

Lalli shrunk in on himself, willing them to run straight past him.

"Lalli!"

They were calling his name. Lalli strained to hear them again.

"Lalli! Where are you?!"

Emil. It was Emil. He chewed on his lip. He didn't want Emil to find him like this, to see him shaking this hard, his body frozen and his fingers turning blue from the cold. He didn't want that, he didn't want that at all.

But, alas, the universe was a jackass. Emil audibly gasped when his eyes fell on Lalli, his hands raised as he was about to shout his name again. His chest heaved with every breath he took, panting heavily from running so hard.

"Lalli! Oh gods, Lalli!" Emil ran over to him, his hands shaking for entirely different reasons. "Are you okay?"

Lalli shook his head, teeth clattering together.

"Do you want to go home?"

He shook his head again.

"Can I sit next to you?"

Lalli paused for a moment before slowly nodding. Emil carefully sat next to him, making sure to leave space between them. He knew Lalli was weird about physical contact - if he wanted it, he'd initiate it. If it was uninvited it'd be shrugged off with a sour look and a low grumble.

"Oona's gone now." Emil said quietly, quiet enough for Lalli to pretend he hadn't heard if he had wanted to.

"She's unsettling." Lalli replied, voice muffled by his knees. Emil had to strain his voice to hear it.

"How so?"

"I don't know." Lalli scrunched his face up even though Emil wouldn't be able to see it. "Something is off about her."

Emil felt inclined to agree, his face heating up as he remembered what she'd said and done before she left. He could dwell on that later, though.

"I don't think she'll be over again any time soon." Emil replied.

Lalli suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Was it his fault? Did Emil now think he couldn't have friends because of him?

A gust of wind whistled in the trees behind them, shaking branches and showering them in more rain and sodden leaves. Emil made a disgusted sound while Lalli snorted with laughter into his knees. He peeled his face off the damp fabric to look up at Emil, mirth glittering in his eyes as he watched the Swede peeling wet leaves from his face and out his hair with a look of pure distaste.

He reached out and gently brushed one out of Emil's hair with his fingers, careful to not stare at Emil. Tuuri had told him it was wrong to stare at people, so he wouldn't do it.

It did make him notice how much Emil was trembling, though. And that Emil wasn't even wearing a coat - simply the thin jumper he wore inside. It looked as though Emil had just tugged on his shoes and ran.

He felt terrible.

"I think I'm okay to go home now." Lalli quietly said as he glanced at Emil's face, internally cringing at how pale it was, and at the smear of purple on his lips. He was very, very cold.

Emil nodded and the two walked back together, Emil nattering away to Lalli despite the lack of response the other was giving.

Once back home, Emil shoved Lalli into the downstairs bathroom and had told him to strip from his wet clothes and shower before disappearing upstairs. Not wanting to talk to anyone else - especially Tuuri - Lalli did as told. Emil came back a few moments later and knocked on the door before coming in. Lalli was already in the shower, so Emil left the clothes he'd brought on the toilet seat before leaving.

When Lalli came out he felt much, much better. He was warm, he could feel his feet again, and he found himself wanting to talk to Tuuri. Anyone else would still bother him, though. Family. He was fine with family.

As he towelled his hair dry, he peeked over at the clothes Emil had brought. At the top, front and centre, was a hoodie he didn't recognise, but there were Swedish words on it, which only lead him to assume that it was Emil's hoodie. Lalli wondered why he'd bring that, but ultimately decided to not think too much about it.

The hoodie was at least three sizes too big for Emil, which meant it was absolutely drowning Lalli. There was more hoodie than Lalli.

He tugged on the pyjama bottoms Emil had grabbed from the drier (he could tell - they still smelled strongly of their detergent) and grabbed his slippers before cautiously opening the bathroom door.

No one was in the kitchen.

Good.

He slipped out, wriggling his foot into his slipper, and made his way to Tuuris room.

Sure enough, there she was, curled up in bed clinging to her pillow like it was the only thing on Earth. He carefully perched on the end of her bed.

"I'm sorry for running like that." Lalli said.

Tuuri suddenly sat up, almost throwing her pillow to the floor.

"Wh-when did you get back?!" She cried, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Lalli wanted to wriggle away and re-establish some distance but he knew it was futile, so he simply accepted it.

"About half an hour ago. Emil made me shower."

"Emil found you?" Tuuri asked. "I thought he was taking Oona home?"

Lalli just shrugged. Like he'd know.

"Oh well," she continued, "it doesn't matter. You're home now. I'm so sorry I shouted at you, I was so scared." Her hands tightened on Lalli's shoulders.

Lalli simply hugged her back for a few moments before wriggling away. Tuuri reluctantly let him go.

"Please, please don't do that again." Tuuri sniffed. Lalli noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks.

"I wont." Lalli promised.

"We'll talk about this in the morning." Tuuri wiped at her eyes. "Go to bed, okay? Get some sleep."

Lalli bid her goodnight before leaving. He meandered into the living room to see if he could find Emil, and instead found Sigrun and Mikkel.

"Hey, Twig! Where'd you run off to?" Sigrun asked. She had asked it casually, but the look in her eye and the way she held herself told Lalli that she was far from impressed with him and that the wrong answer would get him into a lot of trouble.

"The park." Lalli truthfully replied. "Needed some air."

"Next time, let us know, yeah?" She cheerfully replied. She turned back to her book and continued to tap her pen on her lip.

Lalli walked towards his room, but paused at the staircase.

Was it worth apologising to Emil, too?

Maybe he'd go in under the guise of giving back the blanket.

He retrieved the blanket from where he'd stashed it under his bed and went upstairs, gently knocking on Emil's door before letting himself in.

Emil was leaning against his bedpost, breathing heavily with a huge bottle of water in his hand. He had a thin sheen of sweat on him, and Lalli almost thought that he should have waited before coming in until he saw the padded mat on the floor and he realised that Emil had been working out. It clicked in his head. Army. Of course he'd be working out.

"Thanks for this." Lalli said, putting the blanket down on Emils bed. The other watched him carefully, hair sticking to his forehead and neck.

"Don't mention it." Emil replied before gulping down some water. Lalli paused by the door for a moment as he steeled his nerves.

"Thanks for… finding me." He quickly glanced at Emil to see the other staring back at him with bright eyes before he felt his nerves fall out of him straight through the floor, and he bolted.