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He deserves a break. Objectively, he does. He knows he does, and yet he can't help the way it sounds like an excuse in his mind.
He sits on his couch, sipping iced tea, and guiltily sweeps his eyes over the empty cardboard boxes taking up every flat surface in his apartment. With a sigh, he leans back and lets the plush material envelop him. It's a good couch. It's old, yes, and a bit worn out - sunny yellow corduroy more like ashy mustard by now, with some frayings on the edges and little holes where stitches gave up - but it's a good couch nevertheless, delightfully comfy and his, and he's going to miss it. He agreed it would be better if he left it, and after he saw a set of seven cushions - one for every colour of the rainbow and a blue, white and pink striped heart - and died a little at the image of them arranged on the new sky blue sofa they picked out, that decission seemed a lot less painful. But he's still going to miss it.
A ding of his phone brings him back from the memory lane, all family meetings and friends' visits that resulted in more than one wine stain coming back to him. Still blushing from remembering how the opposite side creaks louder since that one time Monét threw away the idea of moving to the bed right with his clothes, he reaches out to read the message. It's a photo from Ja'mie - Mynx carrying take out bags in one hand and proudly posing with the supply of packing tape. The caption promises they'll be at his door in 20. He sends them a heart emoji before clutching his phone to his chest. That he's going to miss even more.
He's moving out from the city he knows like the back of his hand and loves with his whole heart, moving out away from Ohio which is the only home he's known, away from the people who have believed in him and supported him since the beginning. He knows it's okay to be nostalgic, but there's that little voice telling him he should be more excited.
He used to be - felt like he was walking on air ever since that night in yet another hotel room when Monét looked at him with his kind eyes and a warm smile, held his hand and asked, "Move in with me, Miss Nina West, Andrew, just... please, I want to have a home with you". Then he started reasoning, as if Nina needed any arguments to convince him, the future in which they don't have to count hours spent together, because they have all the time, being more than enough to make up his mind. But he let him ramble, describe the house in Orlando he found online.
"Orlando? Why there?" Monét just smiled and leaned to kiss Nina's temple, which was nice, but didn't help his confusion.
"It's just a half an hour away from Disney Land," he said like it was obvious. "We're not going to be home often, anyway, but when we are - I want you the happiest."
Nina could have tried to talk him off the idea of throwing away the life in Brooklyn because of his love for Walt Disney's legacy, or he could have pulled him closer and started mumbling "yes", "thank you", and "I love you" between quick pecks. It was long settled that he'd always go with the option that included his lips on his boyfriend's skin.
He mapped all the way from New York and Columbus to Orlando on the warm chest with kisses, which was probably terribly off, but he left a hickey directly over Monét's heart, whispering, "home is where the heart is" with the cheesiest grin, what made his handsome man swoon, and that's all that mattered. Until he came back to Columbus and faced the challenge of packing all his world into suitcases, boxes and bags.
Brooke Lynn called and softly suggested maybe he wasn't ready. He rolled his eyes, because, no, that wasn't the case. He knows his friend had good intentions, but Brooke is Brooke and there are things she just doesn't understand. (Nina hopes one day she will.)
Monét facetimed him and told him it was fine if it was too much too soon. That he didn't mind waiting. That it wouldn't change anything between them (Nina knew all of that, but still couldn't help the bouts of doubt if his happiness didn't have a termination date set, so Monét promised to assure him even when he wouldn't need that anymore).
He is ready, and it is a lot, but he wants everything with Monét. Everything and more. And he's going to have it in their perfect little house with picket fence, chimney, and a front porch that he already loves.
His phone dings again and he doesn't stop the lovesick grin that appears on his face. Speak of the devil.
I can return it if you hate it
He furrows his brows at the message, patiently waiting for his boyfriend to elaborate. He doesn't, but sends a photo. Nina gasps.
I just saw it in the store and thought about you
Nina starts typing a reply, but decides againts it and presses "call".
"You bought me an armchair," he states instead of greeting.
"Hello to you too." He can hear Monét's smiling. He can also hear Monét's nervous. "Do you like it?"
"You bought me an armchair matching my couch."
"I sure did," he's chuckling and, god, if it isn't the most beautiful sound in the world. "But do you like it?"
"I do, I love it. I love you." He's grinning now, of course he is. "Does it mean I get to keep the couch?"
"No way, girl, that ain't happening." Nina pouts, but he's still grinning, so he doesn't look upset at all. He doesn't feel upset at all. "But I know how you like that old thing and I thought you'd miss it, so I bought the armchair. It's not exactly the same, but it's-"
"It's perfect," Nina cuts in. "You're perfect. Did I mention I love you?"
"Don't know, must've not catch that." He's teasing, but his voice is coloured with a happy smile. "I love you too, Nina West."
Before he manages to reply, or do something stupid, like melt to the puddle on the ground, there's knocking on the door.
"Sorry, I have to go. You know, I'm moving in with the most amazing man on Earth, I need to pack." Monét laughs and agrees, says he knows something about that before hanging up with one last "I love you" and "Can't wait to live with you".
Nina can't wait to live with him either.