Untitled (Will Come as I Go)
Chapter No. 2
I am not to far from my guestimated time when I walk into our apartment at nine-thirtyeight.
We have a decent sized second floor apartmemnt. Once in the door and up the private steps its a straight shot to the bathroom. To the right of that is our kitchen, with plenty of space for the dining table in the middle of it. Through the door way in the kitchen is the living room, not exactly as large as we would like, but it's cute and quaint. Back out into the same hall way, opposite end is a master bedroom that we ended up using as more of an office space. And up the second set of stairs is the attic or as we call it, our room.
I personally have always prefered my attic rooms over every other option. I mean it's like living in hell in the summer and going back to the ice age for the winter, but the room is so spacious, and with a little bit of work we turned it into our own little comfort zone.
When I open the door I hear the T.V. running. No doubt some type of horror flick, they are her favorite.
"Macey." I say it just load enough for her to hear but not loud enough that if she's asleep I'll wake her up. Good thing too, because the lack of responce tells me she's out.
Quietly I sneak my way up the creaky steps and to our mini fridge night stand. I place her food on an empty shelf, quickly grab a pair of grey sweatpants from the bottom of our bed, change, and crawl into bed with her.
She stirrs a little. Enough to realize I'm home and roll over onto my chest. Looking down I smile kiss the top of her head and open my book that has been on chapter thirteen for as long as I can remember. It's nine-fiftyeight at this point. I still have two hours before my overly worn twenty-six year old body thinks it's bed time. Might as well do something right?
We have a decent sized second floor apartmemnt. Once in the door and up the private steps its a straight shot to the bathroom. To the right of that is our kitchen, with plenty of space for the dining table in the middle of it. Through the door way in the kitchen is the living room, not exactly as large as we would like, but it's cute and quaint. Back out into the same hall way, opposite end is a master bedroom that we ended up using as more of an office space. And up the second set of stairs is the attic or as we call it, our room.
I personally have always prefered my attic rooms over every other option. I mean it's like living in hell in the summer and going back to the ice age for the winter, but the room is so spacious, and with a little bit of work we turned it into our own little comfort zone.
When I open the door I hear the T.V. running. No doubt some type of horror flick, they are her favorite.
"Macey." I say it just load enough for her to hear but not loud enough that if she's asleep I'll wake her up. Good thing too, because the lack of responce tells me she's out.
Quietly I sneak my way up the creaky steps and to our mini fridge night stand. I place her food on an empty shelf, quickly grab a pair of grey sweatpants from the bottom of our bed, change, and crawl into bed with her.
She stirrs a little. Enough to realize I'm home and roll over onto my chest. Looking down I smile kiss the top of her head and open my book that has been on chapter thirteen for as long as I can remember. It's nine-fiftyeight at this point. I still have two hours before my overly worn twenty-six year old body thinks it's bed time. Might as well do something right?