All This Time

22 ⦿ in which i have an almost

Life has a way of throwing a spanner in the works when you least expect it, but Wolfram popping up is just about the King Kong of spanners - enormous, intimidating, and wrecking everything in its path. My feelings on his reemergence in my life aren't something I want to dwell on. Not that Brett gave me that luxury. No sooner had he left then she burst through the door, giving me the evil eye and demanding answers.

Warding off her nosiness was just as exhausting as going for a 10K run in Central Park - it left me winded and irritable. After dealing with her interrogation, I had an uneventful and thoroughly boring afternoon of a salad lunch, calling Dash back with Liza's details, and dealing with two other anxiety-stricken clients who hadn't yet found love - and wanted to blame me for it.

Luckily, grocery shopping calmed my nerves down, and after leaving work early, I had stopped to pick up the week's produce at the market. Arms weighed down with two large shopping bags, I had to do some serious juggling in order to pull my keys out of my purse.

Headache sufficiently obliterating any further thoughts on Wolf, I jimmy my keys into the doorknob and give it a little twist. With a sharp pop, the door unlocks and I enter the two-bedroom apartment I share with my roommate. Overlooking Central Park, 820 Fifth Avenue is not an address I would have been able to afford had it not been for my roommate's generosity in letting me stay in the spare bedroom.

"Honey, I'm home!" I call out, sarcasm ringing through my words. I kick my shoes off in the foyer before heading straight for the kitchen. Before the ice cream can melt, I start stocking the refrigerator with leafy greens, sugary dairy goodness, and cage-free, vegetarian-fed eggs.

"Hey, need a hand?"

I turn, smiling at the man in the doorway. Sparkling, ocean-blue eyes, golden lashes, and a head of hair that would make any Hobbit jealous - Levi looks no different than he did five years ago, except for the wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"Nah," I say, sliding the half-gallon carton of milk into the fridge before sliding the door shut. "I'm done." Then, because I can't resist, "Harry Potter."

"I happen to like these glasses," he defends, scowling at me, but his lips quirk upwards at the corners nonetheless. He snaps his book shut and slides his glasses up his nose. "How was work?" Levi asks, tucking the novel under his arm.

"Um..." I hesitate, not sure how to describe today's level of crazy. "A headache-inducing cesspool of financial quandary."

"That bad?" He chuckles warmly. "C'mon, I'll give you a head rub."

"Levi, you're already letting me live here—" I start to protest, but he's already pulling me towards the living room with determination.

"You're one of my best friends. Was I going to let you be homeless?" He lifts an eyebrow at me, gesturing for me to sit on the square-armed, white twill sofa.

The horror, I think, suppressing a shudder as I sit down and tilt my head back against the stiff sofa cushion. I owe Levi more than I can repay, from his unstinting friendship ever since I left the Netherlands to his generosity in letting me stay with him until I got my living situation sorted out.

"You should at least let me pay rent," I murmur, closing my eyes when I feel the sofa dip next to me. His fingers begin to work their magic on my forehead and temples, easing the day's frustration away with soothing, circular movements.

"You already buy groceries and cook me hot meals even though I keep telling you we can just go out," says Levi, a note of reproach in his voice.

"A girl's gotta earn her keep," I tease, the tension in my forehead fading with each gentle press of his fingers on my skin. "If painting doesn't work out for you, you have a great future ahead of you as a masseuse."