Alex's POV
"You know we've never had an actual date," Chandler's voice echoes through the almost empty apartment.
My fingers pick up an empty cardboard box and I make my way to the dresser where she delicately places her already folded clothing into a different cardboard box with sharpie writing on it that reads "clothes."
"Yeah we have; remember when we had dinner at my house that one time?" I correct, placing a hand on the top drawer of her dresser, prepared to stuff its contents into the empty box to my left.
Before I can pull the thing open, Chandler places a hand on mine and smiles the kind of smile you make when you're trying to keep from laughing,
"I'll get this drawer."
I shrug my shoulders and move to the one below it, gently stuffing, well as gently as you can stuff something, Chan's mix of band tee shirts and blackness into the box.
"And yeah," she continues, "that was just one time."
I lift my head up and watch as she grabs a hand full of lace from the top drawer and pushes it inside her almost full box quickly, probably at an attempt for me not to see.
Once Chan turns back, she immediately notices that my eyes were on her the whole time.
A smirk grows on my face but she just rolls her eyes so hard that I swear she caught a glimpse of her brain, and pushes my shoulder playfully.
"If you want to go on a date, then we can go tonight," I assure, attempting to sturdy myself from Chandler's surprisingly hard push.
"Oh and we also have to plan the wedding and stuff," her voice is softer, less sure of itself when she talks this time.
I wouldn't be surprised if she's still not positive I can do this, that I can really settle down.
"We can do that tomorrow," I say as I fold the now full box so that it won't come open again, "but tonight is strictly just a date, no stress."
Chandler breaths in and then puffs out a long sigh that somehow forms the word "ok."
It only takes us a couple more minutes to finish packing all the clothes in her dresser into boxes which -thank God- were the last things that needed packing.
"So what are we gonna do about you're furniture? And your tv and microwave and shit?" I ask, picking up two boxes and carrying them towards the bedroom door.
Chandler does the same and follows me to the pile of full boxes we made by her front door.
"I don't know, sell 'em? Unless you want to keep it," she suggests, setting the things down and wiping her forehead as if it took a huge effort to do so.
"I don't want to keep it," I don't make eye contact with Chandler when I say this, instead my eyes are directed towards the shit load of cardboard boxes filled with clothes, astonished at how she managed to fit all this crap into her tiny apartment.
"Then we sell it," she confirms, grabbing her half drank Dr. Pepper off the now bare kitchen counter. I watch the girl as she fits the rest of the contents of the can in her mouth and gets it down in one swallow.
After shaking the thing to make sure that she didn't leave a drop, Chan walks over to the box -that only has maybe two or three cans left- to get another.
"So what's the plan for tonight?" She asks, flicking the top of the can and then opening it carefully.
"Well I have practice so maybe you could come and watch and the-"
