Moving from your home country to a whole different country is tough, but someone brings comfort along that ride.
[y/n X joão felix] [google translated language used]
— You sat out in your bay window, reading a book but taking small glances out the window to watch the different type of people walk by.
It was another bright sunny day in Portugal, the box from yesterday was still untouched while other important things were put into their spaces.
Kitchen stuff in the kitchen, pillows on your bed or sofa, food in the pantry or fridge, blankets in your room or ottoman. But the ottoman was yet to arrive from the movers slow vehicle.
Plus you had left a day prior then the movers, leaving behind small notes for them about the fragile items.
But now, nothing was left besides rent from your last house. There were thoughts still left in your mind about the boy from yesterday.
The way his mop of hair sat perfectly on his head, his brown eyes, pink lips. Everything was so..perfect.
You didn't like perfect, not after the first one. It wasn't something you wanted, but you needed it without realizing it.
Hearing an engine from a boat, your eyes turned to the passage of water between your apartment and the other half of the island. It was a beautiful sight really, but France was better.
Portugal had its own beauty, but the crowded views were more your thing. Watching all the different details each person walking by had on their skin.
Yes, tourist got annoying but you were used to it.
Taking out your phone, you snapped a couple of photos of the view from your apartment. Posting it on instagram.
Your friends were first to like and comment, even though the comments were limited. Replying, there was a notification from the group chat, showing that Adoa had changed the name of the chat.
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