Painted Lady {h.s}

lithium

{"And just maybe I'm to blame for all I've hurt
But I'm not sure"}

★LORELAI★

March 29th

1997

"Did you really call me over to help pack your one drawer of things?" Faye's voice rings through the hallway leading to William's bedroom.

"It's the unpacking I need your help with." I comment, pushing open the door and stepping inside the large room.

Today is finally the day I move into the loft, and I couldn't be more excited.

After I left the loft, and told Faye everything that happened, she assured me that the place seemed too perfect to pass up. She told me that I'd eventually get used to the group's odd humor, and weasel my way into their hearts. She has yet to see the place in person, or meet any of my new roommates. I called Harlow later that day to tell her the good news, and I swear I could hear Mitch scream in excitement in the background.

Faye is helping me to move all of my things, from William's and the storage unit, into the apartment. Even though it's a Saturday and William isn't at work, he apparently had more important plans than helping his girlfriend move into her new place.

I waited for the perfect time to tell William that I was moving out; a day where he had spent the entire night at the bar with his friends. He's always nicer when he comes crawling in at three am. What I didn't expect was for him to blow up in my face. He contradicted everything he had said from the beginning; calling me ungrateful for not staying with him, shaming me for not being able to afford my own place, etc. So, in the ninety-two degree heat, I'm forced to be in long sleeves from the finger prints he left on my forearm in a fit of anger.

I didn't apologize to him that night.

I had done nothing wrong. He gave me a deadline, and I respected it.

It felt really good not to back down for once.

I never got the chance to even tell him where I am moving, and Faye says it's for the best. I bet if I did tell him though, he would tell me that the area was dangerous or some other ridicule to make me feel bad about myself.

"Can you hand me the tape?" Faye extends her arm out towards me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I place the roll in her hands and watch as she tightly seals the box closed.

"I have a couple other boxes stashed away in some closet that we have to grab before we leave."

"Jesus, he really didn't let you have anything of your own in this place?"

"My stuff doesn't match his aesthetic."

"What's his aesthetic? Psych Ward? Moody vampire?" Faye digs, scanning the bare room.

"Clean?"

"Too clean...Like he's hiding something." She squints her eyes in suspicion, causing me to laugh loudly at her accusation.

"Faye, he's not a serial killer!"

"That you know of!"

I stand up from the floor as I laugh, grabbing the box and leading Faye and I to the living room. My feet carry me to the small closet that houses the rest of my boxes, and I open the door, catching one of the large boxes from falling onto the floor. I stumble backwards a bit from the impact, but quickly stabilize myself. I place the box on the floor and start to grab the remaining ones from inside. Faye begins bringing the boxes down to the car, and we pass each other in the hall as we go back and forth.