Paper Lanterns

Around eleven the next morning, Billie drove me to the house. We went inside and I grabbed a few bags to pack.

"Oh god. I don't know what not to take." I loved my room and what occupied it. But I know I have to let it go for now. I packed all of my favourite clothes, my makeup, perfume and other hygiene related things. My pillow, blanket, and Ralph were packed as well. All of my photo albums and cassettes/albums occupied the bag too.

"Billie, am I packing too much stuff?" I asked, three-quarters of the way done. He shrugged.

"I don't want you to leave something you love behind," he opened my top dresser door, pulling out a pair of skimpy panties.

"Like these," he grinned.

"Billie Joe! Put those back!" I tried not to laugh as he pulled them onto his head.

"Please, remind me why I'm dating you?"

He stopped doing his dance, and said in a serious tone, "Because I love you."

I went over to him and smiled, "I love you too."

That's the first time I've ever said it to someone, and actually meant it in the sense of real love. Billie leaned in, filling the gap between my lips and his. After a quick make out session, I pulled back.

"Not why we're here," I laughed, and continued to shove things into bags.

"You can leave some things here," Billie smiled, "it's not like you're moving and never coming back."

"You're right.. I'll have to tell my Dad sometime.."

So, I only packed things I had to bring or couldn't live without.

On our way out, Billie asked, "Now, are you sure you want to move in with Mike and me?" I nodded, slightly laughing.

"Yeah. You're the one who said no ifs, ands or buts."

"I know, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Billie Joe, I want to be your roomie! Now, shut up and let's go home. I want to dump my shit, grab some cash and go to the grocery store."

Grocery shopping with Billie can be one of the most fun and obnoxious tasks on earth. He'd see something he wants, and if I say no, he pouts and kisses me until I say yes. How could anybody deny his antics?

"Please, Grace," he held up a box of chocolate muffins.

"Billie! I told you already. No! Go put them back." God, you'd think I was his mother or something.

After bagging a few apples and finding a wheel of brie, we went to the ice cream aisle.

"Now. Pick one thing," I told him, pulling out a pint of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough, adding it to the cart.

"Aw.. How can you expect me to choose?" He finally decided on a tub of mint chocolate chip and we left to check out.

Once the groceries were put away, I flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. Soon after, Billie came in and lay across the couch, his head resting in my lap.

"I think we'll have that brie tonight. I want you to try it, okay?"

"Is it that French cheese that you bake?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"You just eat that?" I shook my head laughing.

"No, no. You eat it with apple slices, crackers, and pepperoni! It's the cheese they use to fondue stuff."

"Uh.. Okay. I guess it wont kill me, will it?"

During a commercial of the TV movie we were watching, I said, "Would you let me dye your hair?" while running my fingers through it.
"Depends on what color."

"Blue," I grinned.

"Only if you put purple in yours."

"Dark purple it is then."

"Let's do it tomorrow or something.. I don't wanna move."

"Alright," I yawned, leaning back, and resting my feet on the coffee table.

I don't think I've ever been more content with my life, sitting on the couch with Billie Joe, watching TV in the apartment. There's nothing more I could possibly ask for.

I must've nodded off, because Billie slightly poked me in the stomach.

"What?" I asked, grabbing his hand as he went to do it again, making him jump.

"Is it dinner time yet?" I checked the clock; around sevenish.

"Yep," I got up, and went into the kitchen. I pulled out a few plates, knives, and the foods I needed.

"Can I trust you to slice up an apple?" I asked, cutting a piece or brie out of the wheel.

"Yeah, of course! I'm not homicidal or anything," he grabbed the knife from me and began to cut it up. I slid the brie into the oven, and set the crackers, apple, and pepperoni on the plate.

"Drinks?" I asked, and Billie pulled out two beers.

"French cuisine isn't as blunt as beer. It's refined and sensual," I shook my head.

"Wine?" he asked, and I nodded.

"How on earth.."

"Connections," he cut me off, grabbing a bottle of nice cabernet. Surprisingly, I found a couple of wine classes in a cabinet.

"Holy shit, that was good," Billie smiled, licking his lips.

"I had a feeling you'd like it."

"Where'd you learn about that stuff?"

"Oh, last year my Dad went to France for a month, and when he came back, he told me all this stuff that you wouldn't learn unless you were there or bothered to learn anything about French cuisine."

"That's cool."

"Yeah, and since I really wanted to go with him, its like he brought back a little piece of it with him, just for me," I smiled, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Mike came in from his double shift, so we sat around, drank, and talked before going to bed.