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latermaybeOur furniture, which had seemed so large crammed into our tiny apartment, was now scattered about a space that seemed too large for only two. Open air and light, built in shelves, study space and a music room, and a kitchen one could actually cook in. It was beautiful, and after months of negotiating and planning and overseeing every detail, I had to hope that it was everything Elio wanted it to be.
It was everything to me, because it was ours.
Because of scheduling, the piano had been one of the first things to be moved over, and now, I carefully arranged boxes around it, knowing that it would likely need to be tuned from the move, but not wanted to make it any worse. The boxes contained journals and sheet music, various files and scribbled notes, bits of Elio's genius and madness.
I sat down on the piano bench, flipping through one of the notebooks and scanning the fragments of lyrics scribbled there, one corner of my mouth curved in a smile.
It was everything to me, because it was ours.
Because of scheduling, the piano had been one of the first things to be moved over, and now, I carefully arranged boxes around it, knowing that it would likely need to be tuned from the move, but not wanted to make it any worse. The boxes contained journals and sheet music, various files and scribbled notes, bits of Elio's genius and madness.
I sat down on the piano bench, flipping through one of the notebooks and scanning the fragments of lyrics scribbled there, one corner of my mouth curved in a smile.
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Date: 2026-03-30 03:42 am (UTC)“But if you don’t want to have sex with me, I guess that’s your choice,” I say with an easy shrug, chuckling and pulling my hand back to pat his thigh before standing up. “Putting old books on shelves sounds more fun, I suppose.”
My voice stays in a low, teasing drawl and I let out a put upon sigh as I pick up a stack of my old notebooks. “Not exactly what a husband wants to hear, though.”