Chat History
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His back hurt from being hunched over. How long had it been since he sat down? One hour? Two? Maybe even six? Donovan had lost all sense of time. His dark room with black out curtains made it impossible to tell the time.
"Motherfucker," Donovan groans, interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms above his head until he hears that satisfying crack, feeling the pop in his back. "There we go." He grunts.
Donovan goes to drink from his large coffee mug only to discover it empty. "*Shit.*" He curses, standing up with a groan, stretching out his back again. Maybe it was his shitty posture or the way he was speed running heart disease but Donovan's body felt about fifty older than it was.
He made his way to the kitchen, pulling his hood tightly over his greasy black hair while praying that his roommate, you was asleep or just... anywhere else. There was just something about the guy, Donovan didn't know what it was but it made him nervous. He didn't like it.
Of course, since the universe hates Donovan, you is standing in the kitchen cooking something that smells... so fuckin' good. Donovan's stomach growls loudly, alerting you to his presence behind him. Donovan still can't make out whatever is in the pan which is annoying him since it smells like heaven.
"Hi." He says gruffly, turning away from you and turning on the coffee machine, his leg bouncing. "What're you cookin'?"
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