S'eris tightened her grip on the steering wheel, glaring up at the duplex that was supposed to be hers. Supposed to be her first big win, her investment, her way to finally secure a future that didn't involve working herself into the ground. But life, as always, had other plans.
She'd barely had a week to settle in before she realized she wasn't alone. And not in the "welcome to the neighborhood" kind of way. No, it was the I-was-scammed-and-now-some-guy-lives-here-too kind of way.
His name was Tamir, and she'd met him under less-than-ideal circumstances—his sharp words clashing with hers as they both tried to make sense of the mess their lives had become.
Now, every creak in the ceiling reminded her of the fact that he was upstairs, living his life like nothing was wrong. And she hated it.
S'eris exhaled sharply, stepping out of her car and grabbing the bag of locks and tools from the passenger seat. If she couldn't fix her life just yet, she could at least fix her front door.
S'eris climbed the steps to the front door, her boots thudding against the wooden porch. The crisp winter air stung her cheeks, but the irritation boiling inside her kept her warm enough. She inspected the door as though it had personally betrayed her.
The lock was old, the kind of cheap hardware you'd expect from a landlord who didn't care. Except she was supposed to be the landlord. Her grip tightened on the bag in her hand.
The door creaked open before she could set down the tools.
Tamir.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking every bit as annoyed as she felt. His broad shoulders barely fit in the oversized hoodie he wore, and his deep-set eyes bore into hers like he was still trying to figure her out.
"You gonna replace the lock without asking me first?" he said, his tone sharp but calm.
S'eris raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "Didn't realize I needed your permission. It's my door."
"Our door," he corrected, his voice tinged with mockery. "Last time I checked, my name's on the contract too."
"Yeah? Last time I checked, we both got scammed, so let's not act like this is some joint venture," she snapped, pushing past him into the hallway.
The house smelled faintly of wood polish and the cheap lavender air freshener she'd plugged in a few days ago. She dropped the bag of tools by the door and turned to face him, arms folded.
Tamir let the door swing shut behind him, his expression unreadable. "Look, I get it. This whole situation sucks. But locking me out isn't gonna fix anything."
S'eris rolled her eyes. "You think I'm changing the locks to keep you out? Please. This place has zero security, and I'm not about to get robbed on top of everything else."
He seemed to consider that for a moment, his jaw tightening. "Fair. But if you're gonna mess with the locks, at least let me help. No point in making it worse."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why would I need your help? You a locksmith now?"
"No. But I've got hands. And I'm not about to let you turn this into another fight," he said, stepping forward. "Look, we're stuck here—for now. So, we might as well figure out how to survive without killing each other."
S'eris hesitated, her pride warring with practicality. The truth was, she didn't trust him. Not yet. But she also couldn't deny that having an extra set of hands might make the job go faster.
"Fine," she said, grabbing the tools from the bag. "But don't touch anything unless I say so."
Tamir smirked faintly, his first hint of amusement since she'd met him. "You got it, boss."
They worked in tense silence, the occasional clink of metal and scrape of tools breaking the stillness. S'eris focused on the task, her fingers steady despite her lingering frustration.
"Why'd you buy this place, anyway?" Tamir asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.
She glanced at him, her eyes hard. "Why does it matter?"
"Just curious," he said with a shrug. "Doesn't seem like you were planning to live here long-term."
S'eris sighed, leaning back on her heels. "I wasn't. This was supposed to be my first property. You know, a way to build something for myself. But now…" She gestured around the room, her voice bitter. "Now I'm stuck with this mess."
Tamir nodded slowly, his expression softening just a bit. "Yeah. I get that."
She eyed him warily. "What about you? What's your deal?"
He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought I was buying a home. A place to start fresh." His voice was quieter now, almost resigned. "Guess we both got played."
For a moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by something closer to understanding.
"Guess so," S'eris muttered, turning back to the lock. "But that doesn't mean we have to sit around and take it."
Tamir gave a faint nod. "Agreed. So what's the plan?"
She tightened the last screw and stood, brushing her hands off on her jeans. "Step one: make sure this place is livable. Step two: figure out how to deal with the scam. Step three…" She paused, meeting his gaze. "…Get you out of here."
He smirked again, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "We'll see about that."
S'eris didn't bother replying. She grabbed her tools, slung the bag over her shoulder, and headed for the stairs.
Tamir watched her go, his expression unreadable once more.
S'eris tightened her grip on the pliers, her micro-locs swaying slightly as she leaned into the task. The brass plate on the doorframe gleamed in the afternoon light, a stark reminder of how she'd poured every ounce of savings and effort into this duplex. She could feel Tamir's eyes on her, standing just close enough to make his presence known.
"So, you're just gonna ignore me?" he asked, his tone half-joking, half-serious.
"Yup," S'eris replied without looking up, her focus on removing the old screws. "Easier than arguing with you."
Tamir chuckled softly, brushing a hand over his own traditional locs. They were tied back neatly, though a few had slipped free, framing his face. "You know, for someone who doesn't trust me, you sure let me hang around a lot."
She shot him a sideways glance, her dark brown eyes narrowing. "Trust? That's a stretch. You're still here because, unfortunately, this scam didn't come with an eviction clause for random strangers."
"Random strangers?" he echoed, folding his arms. "We've been living under the same roof for almost two weeks now. I think that makes us, what? Roommates?"
Her laugh was sharp and humorless. "No. It makes us two people stuck in a bad situation who happen to share a mortgage scam."
"Touché," Tamir said, raising his hands in surrender. He leaned against the wall, watching her work. "But you gotta admit, this setup's not all bad. At least you've got someone to talk to."
S'eris stopped mid-screw and turned to face him, incredulous. "Talk to? We've done nothing but argue since you got here."
"Healthy debate," he corrected with a grin.
She rolled her eyes and went back to the lock. "Call it whatever you want. Just stay out of my way."
For a moment, Tamir was quiet, his gaze shifting to the bag of tools by her feet. "You know, my dad taught me how to swap out locks when I was a kid," he said, his voice softer now. "Said it was a skill every man should have."
S'eris paused, her grip loosening slightly on the pliers. "Yeah? Well, my mom taught me how to do it myself so I wouldn't have to wait on a man."
Tamir laughed, genuinely this time, the sound deep and rich. "Fair enough. You're doing a good job, though. Solid work."
She glanced at him, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she masked it. "Thanks."
The silence stretched between them, but this time, it wasn't as heavy.
"You know," Tamir said eventually, his tone thoughtful, "we could pool our resources to fix this place up. At least until we figure out what to do next."
S'eris tightened the last screw and stood, crossing her arms. "And why would I do that?"
He shrugged, his locs swaying slightly. "Because two heads are better than one. And like it or not, we're in this together."
She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But if you screw me over, I'm changing the locks again—this time, without warning."
Tamir smirked, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Deal."
S'eris grabbed her tools and headed for the stairs, her micro-locs swinging as she moved. Tamir watched her go, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The truce was fragile, but it was a start.