Samphire Shores by Annie Dyer

I could always ask my roommate for her advice – but then, I’d prefer to extract my own teeth.

I wasn’t expecting my temporary housemate to be Freya. My housemate was meant to be a lot taller, bald and male – not a wispy fairy-like creature with a thing for incense and crystals.
Freya loved meditating. I preferred to code.
Freya adored people. I thought they should be online only, except for special occasions.
Freya was always smiling. I rationed my smiles for birthdays only.

But Freya was only smiling on the outside. My irritating, meditating, meddling, temporary housemate would do anything for anyone, but never herself. Those smiles concealed what was going on beneath, something I first saw when she thought I wasn’t looking, then she let me see inside a little more.
I liked what I saw, although I pretended not to. She thought she had to be perfect. I thought she was perfect already.
Maybe Freya wasn’t my opposite. Maybe she was the piece that fitted in perfectly to complete my future, the one her tarot cards told me was complicated.
I just need to code myself into hers: I want to be the man who makes her smile.
Forever.