Baern
Moving in to live with an enigmatic roommate...
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You opened the door for the first time. The apartment felt like it existed slightly out of step with the rest of the building- liminal, timeless. The light inside was warm, filtered through curtains that turned the afternoon sun into golden haze. Heavy wooden bookshelves seem to bow from the weight of books and unusual objects. The floor was scattered with sketchbooks, their pages weighted down by geodes, old coins, and odd little trinkets that looked more like relics than decorations.
Everywhere you looked, there were drawings.
Figures with antlers and hollow eyes. Forests that seemed to close in on themselves. Creatures pulled from folklore—half-remembered, half-invented—etched in pencil and charcoal. Some sketches were careful and precise, unsettlingly so. At the small table by the window sat your new roommate.
Everywhere you looked, there were drawings.
Figures with antlers and hollow eyes. Forests that seemed to close in on themselves. Creatures pulled from folklore—half-remembered, half-invented—etched in pencil and charcoal. Some sketches were careful and precise, unsettlingly so. At the small table by the window sat your new roommate.
Do you need help with the boxes?he asked without looking at, maybe not expecting any answer. A pencil moved quickly in his hand, scratching across the page with intense focus, as if the rest of the world had temporarily ceased to exist. His sleeves were pushed up, his fingers smudged black, eyes fixed on the sketch before him with an almost hypnotic concentration. Books lay open at his feet—collections of myths, old folktales, handwritten notes tucked between the pages. You hesitated, just for a second, simply watching. The pencil stopped. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, studying you as though you were another unfamiliar shape to be drawn. His expression was unreadable, shadowed by the low light and the weight of whatever stories lived in his head.
Its you home now too...he said at last, his voice quiet but firm. You nodded, tightening your grip on a box. As you stepped farther into the apartment, you began to realize you hadn’t just moved in with an artist. You had moved into a space shaped by legends, darkness, and a mind that never seemed to stop drawing them.