Blue House | Tronnor

Chapter 20, Troye POV

Troye

I looked up at the house in front of me, a small smile flickering across my lips. 

The house was small, with horrid mustard yellow walls of peeling paint. The shingles on the roof were missing in places, and the window to the left of the front door were painted with hairline fractures, creating a spiderweb of cracks. The real estate agent led me inside, a bored look on her overly made-up face. She led me through all of the empty rooms, showing me chipped tile, broken cabinets, and creaky stairs. The house was like something out of a horror movie--run down, a little bit creepy, and dark due to the broken light bulbs in every room.

But, despite the fact that it was almost the shittiest place I had ever seen, it was cheap. Very cheap. And it was in a good location--right by the studio. I bit my lip, then made the decision.

"I'll take it," I said, a nervous butterfly rattling in the cage that was my stomach. A breathy sigh escaped me, and I smiled, trying to calm my nerves. I hope he isn't mad.... The real estate agent looked surprised, amused, even, but she handed me the contract and I signed it with a flourish, closing the deal. We shook hands, a strange look crossing her face for a split second when she saw that I had nail polish on, but she shook it off and words of thanks were exchanged. 

"Hey... I need to tell you something," I called to my boyfriend who had just walked in the door of our apartment. His arms were weighed down with groceries, and he tossed the car keys onto the counter and kicked off his shoes, slinging the bags down onto the floor and flopping onto the couch next to me. "What is it?" he asked, clearly worried. I took a deep breath, wincing as I said, "Please don't freak out... I maybe kinda sort of bought a house?"

 He blinked. 

Then opened his mouth, running a hand through his chocolate brown hair. 

And closed his mouth.

"Connor, you look like a fish," I informed him, trying to break the tension. He smiled sheepishly, then said, "I'm just startled is all. And a bit mad, honestly. I mean, you didn't even tell me? I know we were talking about it and looking.... But what house? Where is it? Why--?" I cut him off, saying, "I'll just show you. Don't... be alarmed? It's a shitty house, but we'll fix it up! It was cheap, I promise it was worth it Con." He looked alarmed, then sighed in exasperation, rolling his green eyes. "Ok, I guess. I mean, I can't really do anything..." he trailed off, standing up. I smiled nervously, then stood and started unloading the food he had recently brought home. He made no move to get up, which I guess I deserved. I grabbed the keys off the marble counter and jangled them in my hands, catching his attention. "Hey," I whispered softly to him, standing behind him and running my hands through his hair soothingly. "It's gonna be fine. We can do it, you and me . When have we ever not made it?" I consoled, and he huffed through his nose, glaring up at me. "Fine. True. Whatever," he groused, crossing his arms and pouting as I dragged him into the car. 

"TROYE SIVAN MELLET, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WE'RE LIVING IN THAT DUMP?!" 

I winced, pulling up next to the curb and parking the car, rubbing the back of my neck. "Hon--" I started, but he cut me off, snapping, "DON'T call me 'hon' right now. I am MAD." I sighed. "I know Connor. But think, we can paint over the yellow and fix all the windows, and buy furniture for all the rooms! It will be our house!" I said dreamily, and he relaxed a bit. Only a fraction, barely a hair, but he did relax. "Fine. The lease on our apartment ends today, so we have to move in today. What are we going to do? Where are we going to sleep?" he pressed, still trying to find flaws in my plan. I smiled evilly, but my heart tripped and fell in my chest, the butterflies in my stomach turning into dragons. "I have a plan," I said in what I hoped was a confident voice.

Please let this work.