Chapter 43: Oddball Roommate

Drew PoV

The hot water cascaded down my back, washing away the sweet. 

It sure was a surprise to see Wilt here. I had thought Sylvester, with his reserved nature and quiet demeanor, would be the last person to invite someone like Wilt over. But apparently, I had misjudged him. 

Although it seemed Wilt was still mad a me for insulting his high school friends. But I still stood by what I said. They were more of a hindrance than a benefit.

I turned off the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist as I stepped out of the bathroom.

Stepping into the cool air of my room, I approached the closet, still deep in thought about my interaction with Wilt. I pulled open the door, the hinges creaking slightly, and scanned the neatly hung clothes.

I selected a pair of dark jeans and a plain, well-fitted t-shirt. They were simple, no-nonsense clothes that matched my personality. 

I ran a hand through my damp hair, trying to tame the unruly silver strands. Giving up after a few futile moments, I stepped out of my room. 

Upon exiting, I saw Sylvester come out of the small kitchen, his hands slightly wet, presumably from washing the dishes. His green eyes met mine and he offered a small, hesitant smile. One that I didn't return.

"Where's Wilt?" I asked.

Sylvester's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly composed himself. "He left." 

An awkward silence hung in the air. I nodded, not sure what else to say. 

Sylvester, seeming to sense my discomfort, quickly added, "We had lunch together. He helped me cook."

I hummed, moving past him to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Did you guys have a good time?" I asked, surprising even myself at the question. 

Sylvester seemed taken aback as well, but he quickly recovered. "Yeah," he replied, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Wilt's good company."

I nodded again, finishing my water. I could feel Sylvester's gaze on me, probably waiting for me to say something more.

But I didn't. I simply screwed the cap back on the bottle and walked away, leaving Sylvester standing in the middle of the room, the silence between us growing even more palpable.

"Wait, don't you want to eat? I saved you some spaghetti."

"Not hungry." My stomach grumbled, betraying me.

Sylvester giggled. "Well, sounds like you are now."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I turned away, hoping Sylvester hadn't noticed. "Fine," I conceded, "maybe I could eat a little."

Sylvester's smiled. "Come on, I made plenty. It's pretty good."

I couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "I'll be the judge of that," I said, following him back into the kitchen.

The aroma of tomato sauce and garlic hit me as I entered, and my stomach growled louder this time. Sylvester plated up a generous serving of spaghetti and handed it to me with a flourish.

"Bon appétit," he said, his shyness replaced by a hint of pride in his culinary skills.

I took a bite, and to my surprise, it was good. Really good. "This is great, Sylvester. Thanks."

He beamed, clearly pleased with the compliment.

"If you were a girl, I would ask you to marry me," I muttered.

"Uh, thanks? I think."

I sighed. "Just accept the compliment."

Sylvester chuckled. "Fine."

We settled into a comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room being the clinking of my fork and the occasional satisfied hum.

I finished the last bite of the spaghetti, surprised at how much I had enjoyed it. Sylvester had outdone himself. As I rose to clean my plate, Sylvester stopped me.

"I've got it," he said, taking my plate and utensils. "You can go relax."

I nodded my thanks and headed towards the living room, leaving Sylvester to tackle the dishes.

The living room was a small, cozy space with a comfortable couch and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite it. I plopped down on the couch, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

Turning on the TV, I flipped through the channels, settling on a rerun of an old sitcom. The familiar jokes and laughter filled the room, adding a sense of normalcy to the otherwise tense day.

As I sat there, letting the mindless humor of the show distract me, I found myself relaxing. My encounter with Wilt, the tension it had caused, slowly faded to the back of my mind.

At some point, Sylvester joined me, settling down at the other end of the couch. He didn't say anything, merely offering a small smile before turning his attention to the TV.

We sat there in silence, the earlier tension and awkwardness forgotten for the moment.

I gasped as Sylvester fell asleep on my shoulder.

"Sylvester," I hissed. "Wake up, man. You can't just sleep on me."

But Sylvester just mumbled something incoherent and snuggled closer, clearly deep in sleep. I let out a sigh of frustration. I wasn't a pillow.

With a bit more force, I shook Sylvester awake. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at me, confused for a moment before realization dawned on him.

"Oh, sorry, Drew," he mumbled, sitting up quickly and rubbing his eyes. "Didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," I said, though it was far from fine. "Just... try to stay awake, okay?"

He nodded, still looking a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, of course. Sorry again."

I stood up. "Well, that's enough television for today. I'm going to go hit the hay."

Sylvester gave a small nod, still looking a bit sheepish. "Alright, goodnight, Drew."

"Night," I replied, heading to my room. I closed the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the quiet space. I threw myself into my bed and closed my eyes.

While the mattress was comfortable and the room was a perfect temperature, I couldn't fall asleep. My mind kept replaying the day's events like a movie stuck on replay. Wilt's surprise visit, the silent tension, Sylvester's nervousness, his surprisingly good spaghetti, and then him falling asleep on my shoulder. 

I sighed deeply, rolling over in my bed to face the ceiling. The room was dark, save for the soft moonlight seeping through the blinds. The quietness of the night was a stark contrast to the day's events. 

Sylvester's snoring from the other room broke through my thoughts. I couldn't help but grin at that. For a skinny guy, Sylvester could really snore loud.

He and Wilt sure were a pair of oddballs. It was a good thing that Sylvester hadn't made it into the team. One oddball was enough.