"Bathtub," I add to his list, seeing his eyes sparkle. "Kitchen cabinets, upper cabinets, or space for a pantry." When Lucien chuckles, I slap his knee softly. "Outside space, preferably bigger than what I have now, and a spare bedroom. For guests, and we could make it into a little office as well."
"Those sound like decent demands," he shrugs, scrolling through the site.
"For the rental price I was looking at, they were definitely not," I sigh, remembering the absolute horrific things I've seen.
"Which is where I come in," he reminds me, giving my knee a light squeeze. "See, these don't look too bad..."
He clicks a few listings, and we go through them one by one. Some are actually quite nice, where others disappoint.
"How do you feel about this?" he smiles, clicking through pictures to a flat in which every single room is painted a different colour. Green, red, orange, yellow, blue, they're all there. I let out an audible shiver, shaking my head.
"I love a bit of a fixer upper, but that's just awful," I laugh, "you're never going to be able to get those walls back to white ever again, the colour is just going to come shining through."
"Ah, yes, I forgot you are quite the handyman...," he kisses my forehead as I rest my head against his chest. "I'd quite like to see you covered in paint once again."
I shove him softly. "You're taking time off when we find a place, du Castellon, because no way in hell am I going to go through any of the moving process all alone."
      We've gone through what feels like tens of appartments in the past hours, liking some and horribly disliking others. It still feels a little surreal, thinking about how in a few months from now, we could be living together.
Well, part time. Lucien would be travelling for weeks on end, but when he'd come home, he'd actually be home. We'd have a place we share entirely, that reminds me of him even when he's not there. Where his stuff is, where he feels at home.
"That's probably enough for today," he breathes, closing my laptop and putting it down on the coffee table. "I've saved the ones we liked, and I'll make some calls on monday." He kisses the top of my head. "If we get lucky, we might be able to go see one or two before I leave, and if not, we'll try and schedule some visits for the next time I'm back."
It's weird, knowing he'll be leaving again, and we won't be sure when it is he'll be back, which is why I try and enjoy him being here as much as I can.
"We're really doing this, huh?" I smile, rubbing my eyes that have gotten tired from staring at a screen.
He pulls me into him, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We are."
"Do you think they've placed a bet on this already, or will it be totally out of the blue for them?" I ask, and he chuckles.
"Not sure. I mean, we haven't officially told them we're back together yet, though I'm sure I saw Gabriel oggling your ring today..." I lean my chin onto his shoulder, breathing in his perfume.
"About that...," I breathe. "Are we going to have to come out soon? There's already articles about us, people making entire instagram polls about whether or not we're together - what, I check social media too, you know," I interrupt my own sentence as Lucien raises a brow.
"I keep on forgetting you're an influencer now, too," he chuckles. "Holw many followers have you got?"
I jab him in the chest. "Oh, shut up, I'm just... 250 thousand, if you must know. It was half of that, but ever since rumours of us being together sparked, I've gained quite a few followers, thank you very much."
He laughs, pulling me in closer to him. "Yes, we should probably tell people. Eailyn and I have a meeting scheduled for when I'm back in France, and I probably should tell her about the whole moving in together thing, so she can make sure it doesn't reach the internet. At least not before we tell our families and friends."
"Charlie is going to think I've totally lost the plot," which isn't a lie, because he's already doubtful about all of this. Then again, maybe he'd be proud, because this is quite a big life decision, and we've made it together. "But it'd be so nice. We could have Eschieve around over the holidays, so she doesn't have to be in France if she doesn't feel like it. I could introduce her to my side of the family, because I'm sure they'd love her."
"Jacques will think I'm an idiot," Lucien admits, though he says it with a smile. "Though I think I've finally gotten it through to him that we're actually in love and this isn't some elaborate plot to ruin his life."
"Is that...," I ask, planting a kiss on his cheek. "What you two talked about, that morning?"
"It's part of it. He... well, he asked if we were in love, as if that wasn't clear from the moment he laid eyes on us."
"What'd you say?" I ask, his grip on me tightening ever so slightly.
"No, of course," he says with a straight face, though it immediately breaks as soon as we lock eyes.
"Good, because I'm not in love with you, either," I reply, frowning. "Who are you, even, and what are you doing in my appartment?"
Without even thinking twice, he's got me on my back, hands pinned above my head, his face only inches away from mine. The tension in the room, that of thinking about moving in together and actually talking about it, shifts.
Back is the feeling we had this morning, before we got interrupted by Brie, and this afternoon, before Lucien's agent called.

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