paint and literature ♡ [spencer reid]

part 2- boxes

The weight of the heavy dusty books became a second thought when she saw him standing there.

He was tall, with curly brown hair and a smirk on his face. He held a mug in his hands which he was using to warm his hands.

"Moving day?" He continued to speak, raising his eyebrow slightly as he spoke.

"No, I'm just a really big fan of boxes.." She smiled back, moving closer towards him.

His apartment sat at the end of the hallway, the furthest home from the stairwell. There was one apartment between them, leading her to believe he belonged to apartment D4.

"Are you a DC native?" He followed with, leaning against the door frame.

"I'm from all over, DC is my most recent venture.." She spoke, putting the box down in front of her.

"Heavy?" He asks.

"And fragile. I wouldn't trust anyone moving me in not to break these.." She explains.

"Isn't that their job, to get everything there in one piece?" D4 seemed to find this hilarious.

"Well, yes but still."

He seemed interested in the conversation, coming across to her as extremely inquisitive. He would slowly take sips from the mug he held as they spoke, until eventually the drink was finished.

"Not a bad floor to live on, Mrs Connolly lives in D1, she's a sweetheart. A finance guy is living in between us, I barely see him.." He explained.

"And you are?" She too became inquisitive about the man in front of her.

"I'm apartment D4.." He smirked back.

"Very secretive.."

"Indeed. What's your name?" He questioned.

"Apartment D2, but I go by D2 for short.." She smiled, and he laughed back.

"It was lovely talking to you D2. If you'll excuse me I have to get to the office, work starts soon.." He spoke, checking his silver wristwatch.

"Work starts at two in the afternoon?" D2 asked him.

"My slow day was just revived.."

Lacy would watch him leave back into his apartment, a smile blooming on her lips. D4 would escape down the staircase, although he would look through the oak wood bannister for a glimpse at the girl he just met. She hadn't seen him but he took notice of her. He studied her blue denim dungarees, fitted over a colourful sweater to take away January chills. Her golden blonde locks were tightly braided and the small stains of pain on her hands were decorated with.

She thought about him as she liked more boxes upstairs. His curly brown hair and cheerful smile. His brown cardigan and his mug of what she believed to be tea. She liked his laugh and his mystery. The only name Lacy could put on the face was a number, D4.

Heavy furniture was lifted in boxes up staircases and what could fit would be lifted by the elevator. Lacy became surprised by the amount of stuff she owned, wondering what she actually needed from all of this. The movers eventually finished, leaving the sun to rest in a pool of burning orange sky and leaving her alone with a life full of boxes.

Strangely, she would find herself waiting to hear about D4's arrival home, although it never came. She wondered what strange career he could leave that would have him gone at two in the afternoon and not return that night.

Lacy would spend the first night in her new home lying on a mattress which was placed on the floor. She stared at the ceiling, a proud feeling overtaking her. A feeling of improvement, she knew this was right.

The next day would be for unpacking, cleaning, decorating and if she was lucky, painting.