460 - Emma
Only a few days after our piano shopping, most of the furniture we've ordered comes in. We spend hours assembling wardrobes, tables, chairs and even our new couch, then spend even longer finding the exact right spot for each piece of furniture. It doesn't quite end up in a fight, but we do argue quite a lot, and thus take longer than it should take to place most of it.
There's plenty more to do - decorations, new lights, last pieces of furniture we didn't think of, but for now it all seems pretty much perfect.
Sun has pretty much set when we're done, plopping down on our new and improved couch with enough space for two Luciemma's to fall asleep on.
Lucien has pulled a bottle of champagne from god knows where, carefully opening it as soon as we sit down. We've turned on some Amy Winehouse on the record player - my pick, candles lit in most of the living room.
We don't pour it into glasses, simply take gulps out of the bottle as we lean down into the comfortable fabric of our couch, enjoying how we're not falling off, even if we lay down.
Sure, there's plenty more to do, but for now, it seems perfect. By July first, my appartment will no longer be mine and this place will be our only home, but I'm pretty sure most of our nights will be spent here now. The internet was installed today, as well as most of the other necessities, so we'll be alright.
We don't really speak for the first minutes, taking in our new surroundings, and both very tired.
"Welcome home," Lucien smiles, handing me the bottle he's just taken a big swig from, "Emmeline Middleton."
With an even bigger smile, I cheers the bottle against his face softly, feeling the glass thud against his jaw. "Welcome home, Lucien du Castellon."
He pulls me in closer to him, and though we're both sweaty, I don't mind. I don't remember the last time we've showered, and the last time I ate must have been a very early lunch, but I'm also happier than I've been in a while.
The beautiful furniture around is a perfect mixture of the both of us, with bright colours and minimalistic pieces, and everywhere around the house you can find pieces of both me and Lucien. I've printed a bunch of pictures we've taken together, and plan on putting them around the house tomorrow. Pictures from that night at Gregg's with Brie and Kenna before we had admitted to ourselves that we were in love, photo's from Pearls when we ended up kissing, the professional shots taken at Kenna's wedding, then Edinburgh Zoo, Bamburgh, Paris, Barcelona, and plenty of shots just taken at home or at random spots. Both of our birthdays, and this year's outings.
They're all happy memories, come to think of it, and they deserve their own spot.
"You okay?" Lucien suddenly asks, his thumb wiping a tear away that I wasn't even aware of.
I smile, leaning my face into the fabric of his shirt. "They're happy tears."
He chuckles, pulling me closer into him. "I'm glad," he kisses my temple, and I can feel his heart beat against my skin.
We both made wild plans to enjoy our own place entirely, make love in every possible spot in the house, but I honestly doubt we're even able to move off of the couch tonight. It's comfortable enough, so we could probably sleep here tonight if we wanted to. We both need a shower, but the bathroom isn't coming until two days from now, so that would require us to go back to my appartment, which is a twenty minute drive from here.
When I see the time reflected on Lucien's phone, I see it's a little past eight. Time for a very late dinner, apparently, or just time for bed. Either sounds good to me, honestly.
"Do you," he breathes against my skin, leaving goose bumps, "want to just order dinner again?"
"Oh, mister du Castellon," I purr back, "you really do know the way to my heart, now don't you?"
I hear him chuckle once again, and in one swift movement he has pulled me onto his lap, straddling him. If I weren't about to actually fall asleep or pass out from how hungry I am, I would take this moment as the perfect opportunity to inaguarate this couch, but I can't, which is why after our kiss I slowly pull away.
"Are we staying here tonight?"
He shrugs, obviously also feeling the same I am. We haven't spent the night here before, and without a shower it feels quite weird.
"We should probably go back to yours," he kisses my cheek, "now we still can. I need a shower...."
I groan, fully agreeing with his statement yet not quite ready to get up from this comfortable couch, let alone replace it with a much less comfortable one.
"I know, I know," he moans, wrapping both arms around me tightly, "but we have to. We can stop by that one sushi place on our way home if you want to."
He really has his way to sway me, and he knows it, because with what's probably the last bit of energy in his body, he picks me up, my legs still around his waist.
"As soon as that bathroom is in," he breathes against my neck, "we're sleeping here, and we're exploring every last centimeter of this house."
"Oh," I breathe, "you know how to get a girl excited about moving."
He laughs, putting me back on my own two feet as we both grab our stuff to get ready to leave.
"Every. Last. Centimeter," he repeats himself, pressing me in between his body and the door as he unlocks it.
"Consider me intrigued," I breathe as the door slowly gives in, leading us into the hallway. "Can't wait."
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