7 Months

7 Months

A sigh of complete and utter happiness fell from your lips. Despite how heavy the cardboard box felt, it was the last one from storage. It was the one out of five sitting in the middle of your dark, wood paneled floor. The white walls gave a stark contrast, and the overwhelming feel of the room was slightly cold and lonely. On the other hand, it cost about thirteen thousand a month and was close to your work. The pros outweighed the cons in your mind. Your footsteps made loud shifts in your ears as you strode across the spacious living room to the shuttered windows. Dust slightly billowed out as you unfolded them with a flick of your wrist. Warm sunlight beamed into the room and your hands went to tighten the flannel around your waist. Even heavier footsteps sounded up the concrete stairs from outside.
Ludwig angled himself slightly through the door way wedging in your mattress. You hurried over to help him make it through the narrow hallway in the back. Once inside the dingy bedroom you both let the fluffy thing flop to the ground. You then proceeded to fall back on top of it, while Ludwig went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. This was your new home, your new beginning as a relationship. Both of you had decided to move in together after your first year anniversary. You asked him. He blushed and gave you a note with a magnolia on the top asking the same. That same night you went to his place and shagged with a bottle of white wine to celebrate. Very romantic.
Together you went out searching every alley of the city for an affordable place close to his office and your shop. It wasn’t the most perfect place, but it was cheap and a good commute. He was convinced you both could finish renovating it in seven months. He made six figures, while you made barely ten. With that sort of a budget, plus retirement, budget, and other emergencies, you planned it to take 12 months. Just thinking of the money made your head want to split open. Slowly, you raised yourself from the mattress and went to look for your blonde boyfriend.
You found him hovering over the kitchen appliances, Windex in one hand, and a rag in the other. His broad shoulders moved meticulously slow as he took his time to clean the place up starting with the bottom of the cabinets. The white t shirt on Ludwig did him no justice as his muscles were just from view under the sleeves. You stalked him for a moment before stealthily wrapping your arms around his neck. You stared down at him as he craned his chin up to see you. “Look!” You smiled, “We’re matching!” You glanced down at your own white shirt. He took the chance you gave him to give a once over on your torso. He gave a crooked smile at your comment.
“I suppose we are,” Ludwig began to stand up and towered over you, his large hands resting upon your waist. He bent down to give your forehead a light peck, while your own hands rested on his shoulders. They lightly squeezed them as you rested your head upon his chest and let out a sigh which echoed through the room.
“Please tell me it won’t look this bad in a few months,” A chuckle sounded across his chest and you raised your head while lifting an eyebrow.
“Of course it won’t,” He said confidently, “I have it all planned out, come here, look.” Your body twirled around to look into the living room. “Over there will be that Oriental rug you love so much, while the couch will be clean and white and have matching pillows. There will be dark wood coffee table and maybe a side stand. On that other wall will be my flat-screen and a stereo system. You will have your mirror and lamp over there and my chair will sit there.” You listened to his soothing voice. It mellowed out in harshness and accent since you met him, yet a good bit was still there and it calmed you. He guided you by your shoulder in to the bathroom, and explained how it would be used for the guests mostly.
Then he pointed back to the kitchen and said he would make sure to have the latest and classic things he could use to make dinner. All with an overhead rack to set the pots and pans and a sleek breakfast bar. Last, but not least, came your bedroom. He shuffled you both to the bathroom.
“We’ll have to share the vanity, but I’ll take half for my things and half for you. We’ll make the shower with a glass casing and the bath will be twice as big. Here will be the fluffy white towels and of course over here,” He lead you to the bedroom. “Here there will be our dressers and mirrors. And on the bed we will have passionate love several times a week.” You snorted.
“Shut up, Stupid,” He smirked at you, as he bent down to connect to your lips. Every time you kissed it was as if sparks of fire were shooting from each others’ mouths. You had begun to lift your fingers to his locks, but he pulled away all too quickly. A quiet whine left your tongue. He embraced you.
“We have to finish unpacking,” You gave a grumpy glare his way, but he only smiled and handed you a small box. You groaned and fell back to the mattress once again. If renovations weren’t going to kill you, then the sexual tension was.