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Tim is a man of few words and possessions. He thinks having a lot of things just holds you back. He thinks it’s easier to get up and move, (and he has done this a few times). He has never had a lot on him and he’s okay with that.
He has been okay with that.
And then Lucy came into his life, and when they started dating he noticed it more and more. He would spend time at her apartment and he noticed all the things she had. It was little things: plants, candles, pictures. But still—
She would stay at his house, and she would leave stuff there. It was mostly clothes to be fair but it seemed to grow every time she would stay.
They broke up and her stuff stayed, he didn’t have the heart to give it back because it was his fault. It was his fault that her heart was broken. It was his fault that she wasn’t coming to his house every other day.
(And it would seem too final for him.)
And then they got back together, she moved in with him and all her boxes were here. And that was great. He was thrilled actually because his life was starting to make sense again.
Except—
All her damn stuff was still in boxes and she was practically living out of those boxes. He loves her, he really loves her. But he’s tired. He’s tired of the boxes around the house and he’s tired of feeling like she hasn’t moved in completely.
It’s been almost a week.
He feels like with all these boxes around, she has one foot in the door and the other out of it. He feels like it’s not official and it’s killing him.
(He’s also tired of tripping over the boxes—hell he couldn’t even back her into the bedroom last night because he almost face planted on the ground).
But he doesn’t know how to bring this up to her, he doesn’t know how to approach the subject without seeming like he’s controlling.
This is her house too. Well it will be once she’s unpacked and everything is squared away.
He just wants this to feel like home and not what it is right now.
He opens the refrigerator and he’s not surprised to see that Lucy brought some of her food. Her milk that she could actually drink (lactose free) and of course her vegan bacon that was almost gone.
(He’s not sure how or why but he figures he needs to get some after work today.)
He moves her stuff aside and then shuts the door.
He loves her, and they were getting back on track. That’s what matters.
That’s all that matters.
***
Tim is quiet, and he can feel Lucy’s eyes on him as he moves around the boxes in the living room. He pushes one aside and sits down on the couch.
“Are you okay?” She asks. He looks over at her, and she has a concerned look on her face.
“I’m good.” He says. “Why?” Lucy studies him like she doesn’t quite believe him and honestly he doesn’t blame her. Plus he’s already not communicating with her.
Idiot.
He’s an idiot in love with this woman who drives him crazy. In the best way possible, and he still isn’t sure how he deserves her. He’s not sure how he got a second chance.
(Thank god he did.)
“You just seem like you are thinking about something.” She says. He shrugs his shoulders, the boxes have been on his mind for the last few days. He just doesn’t know how long he’s going to let it last without saying anything.
“It’s nothing,” he says but Lucy gives him a look. “Aren’t you tired of living out of the boxes?”
“I’m just figuring out where to put everything.” She says. Tim tries not to scoff at that because other than digging through the boxes to get her clothes out. He hasn’t seen her unpack anything.
“Really?”
“Yes.” Lucy says and she doesn’t seem to realize this is bothering him. He’s trying not to let it bother him. “There’s a way to place everything. Everything has a purpose.”
He’s trying really hard.
“That’s…” He trails off not wanting make this a bigger deal than it was. Because they were just boxes, they were the boxes (and the extra boxes) that he bought her. And she was here in his—their—house.
But still the thought he had the other day. She wasn’t completely moved in with all these boxes surrounding them.
She could change her mind at any minute, kick Miles out of the apartment and he would be here alone once again.
“The boxes will be unpacked soon babe.” She says. Tim blows out a breath.
“Okay.” He says. She leans and gives him a kiss on the cheek and then lays her head on his shoulder.
Boxes or not this was perfect.
***
Tim buys the vegan bacon next time he’s at the store. He slips into his cart and then when he gets home he slips it into the refrigerator.
He doesn’t get it—fake bacon. He’s not sure what the point is but Lucy likes it and this is her home now too.
She deserves the fakon no matter what.
(And he would continue to buy it for her. No matter what.)
***
Tim’s inner voice was really getting to him. Every time he saw the boxes or walked into the living room.
There they were and heard the voice in his head.
Every time he saw Lucy’s pictures on the floor.
He heard the voice, say something before this boils over into something much bigger.
Tim has to admit that his inner voice is right. He needs to say something because he promised communication and right now he wasn’t talking to her.
He sits down on the bed and Kojo puts his head on his lap. “Don’t give me that look,” he says to the dog. “I know I need to talk to her.”
Kojo lifts his head and then sets it back down on his lap. Tim looks around the bedroom, he’s lucky that the bed is clear.
He’s going to talk to her. Soon.
“Hey babe,” Lucy steps inside the room with a towel around her. She’s half wet like she stepped into the shower and then forgot something. He’s not sure why she bothered with a towel. He really wishes she didn’t. “Where’s my toiletries bag?”
Tim stands up, “The bottom right cabinet in the bathroom.” He says. He did put some of her necessary stuff away.
“Thank you.” She says and turns around. Tim follows her aimlessly. He trips over a box but he barely notices.
Soon. He would talk to her soon.
Right now he had more important things to do.
And at least they were both finally home.