_a/n: so yes to answer some of your questions, this will be a series of college one shots. the overall summary of this fic will continue to change by chapter.

ii. count your blessings
Awkward moments were inevitable. Especially since she was attractive. Not that he'd tell her that, though.

.

.

.

He had only needed a place to stay; somewhere he could crash whenever he couldn't elsewhere, somewhere homely and comforting and neat. He had also thought it would have been easy, since adjusting had always been easy for him—he had moved at least six times in his life with his family. However, living with the Hart girl was much different than he thought it would be with her spontaneous showers and her mess of apparel and her countless cosmetics (not that she wore a lot, if she even did at all); and wait, let's not forget the fact that she's a girl. A snarky and manipulative and condescending girl, at that. Awkward moments were inevitable.

(and endless)

Especially since she was attractive.

Not that he'd tell her that, though.

(and especially since they were both attracted to each other)

Not that they'd tell each other that, either.

Not that they'd talked at all, for the most part.

/

The only times they really see each other is when she gets back from her shift (wherever she works, he'd been meaning to ask her) some time past eleven and she'll usually spare a glance in his direction in the living room before heading toward her room to sleep. Sometimes she'll take a night shower because she'll feel that disgusting by the end of the day, even when she had taken one in the morning. But most times, she doesn't even have the energy to say a simple "hey".

They don't even sit near each other in class, if she shows up, that is. And it isn't as if he isn't friendly or social. He's just intimidated. And it isn't as if she isn't friendly or social, but—well actually, she kinda wasn't. Or maybe she just hadn't been interested in being friends. Maybe it was just strictly business; sharing space, rent.

Lucas thinks that maybe since he'd be staying for who-knows-how-long, that one of them could at least try to break the surfaced tension of their atmosphere. How could two people live together and not even try to form some sort of bond?

It starts when he offers to do her laundry. (curse the manners his mother had forced upon him during his younger years) It's the least he could do, wash her clothes – she gave him a home, for Christ's sake. Maya looks at him with questioning eyes that makes him uneasy as he stands a step inside her room—crossing the boundary of her own haven. He watches as she steps off her mattress in only a long hoodie and picks up clothes from around her room. She places the assortment into his hand with a semi-happy look before giving a genuine, "Thanks."

"No problem," he replies, legs striding across the doorframe as he pulls the door closer to its lock.

"Lucas?"

He freezes in his tracks. "Yeah?"

"Better not steal anything."

He can't even see her, but he can feel that smile that reeked of superiority when he looks at how the majority of the apparel in his hand are undergarments.

"Very funny," he responds before having the door click shut behind him.

/

And then there was that time she had caught him blasting country music as she had unlocked the front door after having left work early.

She looks about ready to gag, shooting him a stink eye as she drops her keys, books, and bags onto the dining table. This is not what she had signed up for when she'd submitted her ad in the paper. Having a boy living with her was one thing, but a boy that had this unconditional love for country music?

He has got to be kidding.

The only thing that saves her the gag-fest is the mouth watering aroma of tomato sauce roaming the air of the kitchenette to her right. He's wearing this stained apron and a small smile, his absent humming along coming to a stop. He speaks over her blaring iPod, asking her if she cares for some spaghetti.

"I'd be yelling at you right now for that trash," she points to the device that's playing the stupid genre before twirling a fork in her meat covered noodles. "But I guess I'll hold off on that."

Unaffected by her dislike and appreciative of the way she stuffs her face with his food, he doesn't hesitate to join her with a bowl of his own.

He thinks it's funny when he walks by the bathroom door the next morning to her daily sunrise shower, and she's singing along to the same Luke Bryan song he'd been playing (that she claimed to despise). Then Maya's dressed up in leggings and a crimson scarf messily bunched over layers of her blonde waves, tugging on some black ankle boots when he passes by her with a towel over his shoulder on his way to his shower. And tables are turned right before he shuts the bathroom door.

"You've got a lovely voice," Lucas singsongs, and she has nothing to say in return when she hears the water turn on—and dammit, she's already ten minutes late.

/

And of course there had been time where one of them had walked in on them while they were naked. That was bound to happen and they both knew it.

It was her fault. She already knew problems like this would happen when he had first moved in. If only she had at least tried to prevent any of them from happening. And in her defense, she was exhausted. She had no knowledge of her surroundings. She hadn't even remembered she had a roommate.

(she recalls almost screaming at the sight of a boy in nothing but a towel in her bathroom)

She had skipped her lit class, having overslept and lacking motivation to do anything that day since her head was pounding and her nose was stuffy and fuck, if this was a fever coming on, she was going to kill herself because finals were next week and now is not the time for her stupid immune system to be breaking down on her.

Maya figures that it'd be a bad idea to shower that morning, instead probably relaxing in a bath—the ones with the cucumbers over her eyes and with The XX being the only sound echoing along the bathroom walls. It'll be her serenity. The thought is more than appealing as she groggily rubs at her eyes, pushing the door open to be welcomed by post-shower steam and a post-shower boy with glistening pecs and shoulder blades and a fucking chest that would put Harley Keiner (in his golden days, of course) to shame.

It's hard to adjust her vision in the fog and in this heat and god—when even was the last time she had fucked somebody anyway?

She releases that thought as soon as it entered her already clouded mind, and as soon as everything registers, she knows she won't be able to tolerate that smug look on his face for her staring (just a tad too long) so she avoids any eye contact before abruptly turning around and shutting the door whilst muttering senseless sorry's.

The brunette hears her curse under her breath before trudging back into her room to throw herself face first onto her bed. She tells herself that it's the fever coming along that had caused the amount of heat in her cheeks.

And as time goes on, he realizes she isn't as intimidating as she appears to be. She's not that bad. Not really.

tbc.

_a/n: reason for the lateish update is because i havent been too inspired to continue, especially since the show doesnt come back for a few months. also im a senior and im super stressed over school and college and applications and just everything and you dont care so ill stop rambling about irrelevant topics now

more will comeeeeeeee