Chapter 33: HOUSE RULES

"Rules?"

"Yup" She popped the P as she flopped down on the couch next to me.

"You know, a guideline or regulating principle. It's time we made some rules around here." Making hand gestures, she talked smoothly as the definition of the word rule was being given. Really enlightening, I had no idea what It meant before. {NB: detect the sacarsm}.

"Is this still about your coffee? Yet you say I'm the one who's addicted. Suddenly, we're out of it and you go all principled on me." I wiggled my brows, throwing a smirk at her.

"No, I wanted to do this a long time ago. We just haven't had a civil conversation yet." She mumbled incoherently, fiddling with her thumb. Later I found out that she does that a lot of times.

"You know that was barely audible right?" Tilting my head to the side, I asked raising my brows. Kinda like a child trying to get his first words out.

"As long as you heard me?"

" So, what are your brilliant ideas. Since you suddenly came up with such a wonderful thought."

" I didn't just come up with it. This is the first time you're speaking to me without wanting to chop my head off" Resting her chin on her hand, she maintained a fixed gaze continuing.

"First off, we need to write it down. Also, we would be signing at the end. That way, we both have to comply. With no excuses!"

"So it sort of a contract. Breach the contract, what happens then?" If I know how angry Natasha may get, we might be having a court hearing for a breach of contract if care is not taken. We all know I'll most likely lose.

"I don't know. We'll come with up something."

"Rule number 1, STAY AWAY FROM MY COFFEE!" She yelled the last words as I jumped out of my skin in shock. I knew it! This was about coffee after all.

"What if it's an emergency?" Now don't be surprised, it is not totally unbelievable to have an emergency regarding coffee. In the world of different people and various personalities, even the impossible is possible these days.

"What sort of emergency would involve coffee?" Natasha crossed her arms, furrowing her head in deep thought.

"Hmmm, let's say you're held captive and the kidnappers make a demand. But not your regular ransom this time. Instead, I have to gulp down cups of coffee before you can be released. What happens then?" Leaning back on the chair, I raised my head to look up. Stroking my imaginary beard made me appear lost in thoughts.

"That's absolutely impossible"

"Nothing is impossible Natasha, not even my made-up story. You didn't answer my question."

"Fine. In that case, whoever finishes the last coffee bag has to replace it." Shrugging, she swung the dishtowel in her air.

"If I don't have the money?"

"Money is clearly never a problem for you."

"True." For years money has been the least of my problems or never even a problem. I'm simply a low-key rich guy.

"Next, grocery shopping can work any which way. I don't think it matters." She wrote down that point. When I tried peeking, she shoved my head away.

"Yeah, we can both decide to storm Walmart and bring back home all its contents," I said jokingly, throwing my head up.

"As long as you can find a place to fit them. No problemo." Allowing a smile to creep on her face, she grinned brightly.

"I have a rule! " Clenching my hands above my head, I informed. It wouldn't be fair if I don't get to make a rule and I finally came up with one. A rule with its perks.

"Okay...." Natasha eyed me suspiciously, trailing off.

"There are 7 days in a week."

"Really? I had no idea!" Rolling her eyes she responded sarcastically.

"Listen. I get the television all to myself on Saturdays." A bid for the television. Well, not technically a bid but a quest to get the TV all to myself when need be. Only one television exists in this house, there are major disadvantages to that.

"But Saturdays are when they show the good stuff." Balling her hands into a fist, she pouted in reluctance. A lot like Lucy, now I know where she got it from.

"..... And also the day they stream live ball matches. It's a fair deal in my opinion. You can watch whatever you want on other days."

"Hmph. Why don't you get a TV in your bedroom?"

"I don't want one. Why don't you do so?"

"Lucy will never come outside that way."

"Fair. So a deal?" Holding out my hands, we shook on what I considered to be the most important agreement among others.

"Yeah sure."

"Got any other thing to add?"

"Yes, this one is specifically for you."

"Oh"

" Privileged jerk rules."

"And you say these rules are for me?"

"Affirmative."

"But, I am anything but a jerk." I crossed my arms, looking down and away. Maybe...., just maybe I can be a jerk sometimes but there's no saying that.

"Is that what you think?"

"Yes, duh. Define the word jerk."

"A person with unlikable or obnoxious qualities and behavior, typically mean, self-centered or disagreeable." Natasha brightly replied. I'm starting to think she has an entire dictionary in her head.

"My personality doesn't fit into that description at all. The entire city loves me." Nodding in affirmative, I closed my eyes You can hear the loud voices of my fans cheering if you ignore the burning gaze she pierced into my skin.

"Don't get it wrong. The female population of the entire city loves you. Which man do you see swooning over your bare chest?" She edged closer poking my chest, to emphasize her point.

"You would be surprised." Chuckling, I said as a matter of fact. That's the good thing about being Jeremy Heath, you are definitely lovable. I mean, who wants to look away from my face?

"Take a shot"

"Once, I went for an interview in Australia. One of the biggest clothing lines unveiled their new outfits. After the runway show, I was invited for an interview in the media house. The chief interviewer told me about how much his teenage son adores me. He claimed to be absolutely in love with me. I would have loved to meet him but he's too young and I had a girlfriend then. Both genders want me." Clapping at the end, even I was impressed by my story.

"Well, that's definitely something. But regardless, you're a jerk and you know it!"

"I used to be a jerk" Finally I submitted to her claims of me being a jerk, although not completely.

"You are still one."

"That's because humans are annoying."

"That explains your attitude. Tsk Tsk, I wish I was an alien right now." Placing her hand over her heart, she let out a dramatic sigh.

"Nah. I will try to tolerate your non-alien self for a while." I reached out to pat her head, indulging her silliness for a while longer.

"Great! Back to my rules. If you act like a jerk towards other residents of this house, and my guests then you have to forfeit television rights for two months."

"Two months? Isn't that too much?" I raised my eyes a little, not believing her.

"Not just that, you also have to do the grocery shopping for the same period."

"Too brutal, I hate shopping." I'm starting to think we both hate shopping.

"Then don't be a jerk. It's pretty simple if you ask me."

"Fine." Sighing, I agreed once again. She whooped happily, scribbling down the next rule.

"What else?"

"We should get a housekeeper."

"Why, the house isn't even that big. Two bedrooms, a laundry room, an empty office, a living room, kitchen, garden, and a front porch."

"You know the living room alone is bigger than some people's entire apartment right?"

"Still, we are just three living here."

"We are both never around, Lucy is always at Samantha's or a sitter and we both hate chores. Who is going to look after the house then?" If care is not taken, we will end up residing in a pigsty.

"You have a point. We should go scouting for one?"

"I'll ask around."

"Anything else?"

"Food?"

"It's left to you."

"How about, you have to give me out of the cookies you bake each time there's a new batch."

"No. Don't you think I've forgotten what you did on my girl's night in." She narrowed her eyes at me, clicking her tongue. Why can't people forget the bad stuff?

"Let bygones be bygones."

"Not this kind"

"Darn it! " I wiped away the nonexistent tears from my face. It was worth a try anyway.

"The final part, we both sign in agreement?"

"Sure. There you go." Officially penning down my signature, I handed it over for her to do the same.

She completed it with her signature at the bottom left of the paper.

"We should have this framed," I remarked, holding it up.