Roommate Roleplay: He's the Brave Lamb, I'm the Chef

The moment I saw that electric slow cooker, the pain of being burned to death washed over me again.

Even though our relationship had soured pretty badly, Stuart continued to act as if nothing had happened. He came over and bumped into my shoulder as if we were friends.

"Look, Benson! I got an electric slow cooker. I'll make some soup for you later, so that we can warm up to each other again. We're roommates, after all. We're going to be living together for a long time. You can use my electric slow cooker whenever you want. I genuinely consider you my friend!"

I'd learned in my previous life just how genuine that friendship was.

I took a step back before saying coldly, "Save it. It's best if you learn not to cross the boundaries. I don't plan on being friends with you."

Stuart's eyes flickered a little before he drew closer to me again. "Don't just say that out of anger, Benson. I know I made a mistake. I won't do those things again.

"We both came to a foreign country alone. Isn't it good to have a friend beside you? If I ever do something silly again, you can put a stop to it before things get out of hand!"

He even flashed a cheering gesture at me, looking completely confident as he declared, "I'm an agreeable guy. I'll do whatever you say!"

I rolled my eyes at him. I'd lost count of how many times I heard him say that in my previous life.

He did listen to everything I told him. But every single time, he managed to find new ways to screw things up—ways that were far beyond normal human imagination. Sometimes, I was sorely tempted to ask him if the mothership had sent him to earth to perform some kind of social experiment.

I turned away and headed to my bedroom. As soon as the door closed, I swiftly chose an apartment and transferred the deposit to the real estate agent.

While I was inside my bedroom packing my things, Stuart, who hadn't gotten a response from me, vented by chopping up some vegetables.

Remembering the ridiculous things he had done in my previous life, I quickly walked into the kitchen—just in time to see him place the entire slow cooker onto the induction stove and reach for the power button.

"Stuart! Didn't I tell you not to touch my things? And is there seriously something wrong with your brain? Who taught you to heat up an electric slow cooker on an induction stove? If you don't know how to use something, can't you at least read the manual first?"

Stuart flashed me an innocent smile. "Really? I had no idea, Benson. Anyway, don't be so petty with me. Just let me use it. I'm from the southern part of Candoria, you know. We're famous for our cuisine. I was born with the ability to cook. You're in for a treat!"

I was certain now. There had to be something wrong with Stuart's brain. He was incapable of understanding what someone else said.

Meanwhile, Stuart ignored the eye-roll I gave him and carried on talking.

"By the way, Benson, I noticed you had some bone broth in your room. Why don't you bring it out so that I can make the soup for us? It's been raining a lot lately. A nice warm bowl of soup is just the thing you need! Oh, and there's no salt left in the house. Can you head to the nearest store to get some?"

Snorting, I shot back without showing any courtesy, "No one wants to drink your lousy soup, Stuart. I don't think your top priority should be getting an education abroad. Instead, you should go back to Candoria and get your head checked by a specialist."

Stuart immediately turned toward me, looking all hurt and upset.

"How can you say that about me, Benson? I'm just trying to be nice to you, but you have no appreciation for that at all! Who cares about your stupid stuff, huh? Just you wait. Once I'm done with the soup, I won't let you have a single spoonful of it! You deserve to eat nothing but plain bread every day!"

Once he finished speaking, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the apartment to get some salt.

Not long after he left, the movers I hired arrived. I didn't have many suitcases, but I did have a bunch of furniture and appliances. With their help, I was able to move everything out in a matter of minutes.

I sent Mr. Ferguson a message to terminate the lease. I didn't even bother trying to get my security deposit back. I would just consider it payment for getting out of a future catastrophe.

I wasn't going to be lucky enough to enjoy Stuart's soup. He could have it all to himself. This time around, he should get a taste of what it felt like to die in a fire.