It feels reckless, strange, exhilarating.
When I finally close the laptop, the room has softened somehow.
But I know that if I sit alone with the idea, I’ll talk myself out of it.
So I grab a suitcase and start packing.
A few clothes.
My phone charger.
A tattered photo of me and Mum.
And the pocket knife I keep under my bed for protection.
???
By the time I step out the door, dusk has settled over the city.
It’s just after nine when I reach his front door.
I pause outside for a moment, shadowed by the weight of my decision.
My heart is beating harder than it should.
A heavy sigh escapes me.
Inside the apartment I hear movement.
The soft sound of bare feet crossing the floor.
Before I can insert my key, the door opens.
Amos stands there looking gorgeous in a loose t-shirt and grey shorts.
His hair is slightly messy, as though he’s run a hand through it absentmindedly.
“I know that sigh,” he smiles. “Bet I could recognise it while blindfolded.”
He curves an arm around me.
“Come snuggle on the couch.”
We step inside and he nudges the door closed with his foot.
He eyes my suitcase with curiosity.
Not the usual overnight duffel.
“Moving in?” he grins.
“Careful what you wish for,” I flirt.
He lifts me onto the table before I can object.
“I wouldn’t say no.”
“You wouldn’t?”
