Blue House | Tronnor

Chapter 21, Connor POV

a/n: two updates in one year?1/2?1/?!? 

srsly tho im worse than Dan (Howell if u didn't know which wtf) and he uploads like once a year smfh

AAAAAANYWHO PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT AND FOLLOW AND ALL THE SHIZZ BC I LOVE ALL OF U AND WILL GIVE U FREE INVISIBLE COOKIES IF U DO THOSE THINGS

i've found that people read a/n's more if they're at the top

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Connor

I was pissed. I tried not to show it too much, but I was boiling with anger. 

My stupid, idiotic, ridiculous, attractive, brain-dead boyfriend had bought a house. Not just any house, either; this was quite possible the most damaged, wrecked, old house I had seen, and he expected us to fix it? And sleep in it tonight? Ugh.

"Stupid good for nothing moron who just--" I muttered, going silent as Troye entered our room. The floor--which was normally covered in dirty clothes, books, and other clutter--was clean and vacuumed, the windows in each room were washed, the walls were bare, and all of our belongings were hastily shoved into cardboard boxes. We hadn't spoken at all while we packed, instead we had gathered out things in stony silence. He looked uncomfortable, and more than anything I just wanted to wrap my arms around him, but I refrained from doing so because then he would think everything was fine and I wasn't mad. 

Which I was.

"Connah?" he said softly, leaning on the door frame with his car keys in hand. I glanced up from my phone, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Yes?" I replied, my voice flat and bored. He slouched a bit, disappointed, and said, "I'm going to the house to set up for tonight. I assume you're coming later?" I winced inwardly at the last sentence. I wanted to go now, to listen to music in the car and sing along loudly with Troye, to hold his hand over the center console, to sleep on the floor of our new house with him, to not be mad at him.

But I was.

So I simply nodded coldly and flicked my green eyes back to Instagram. He sighed and left the room, and I turned my phone off, tossing it to the side and watching it bounce on the bed, falling to the floor. My gaze turned to the ceiling, and I huffed. What was going to happen tonight? How was he going to make that house--if you could call it that--comfortable to eat and sleep in? And then live in after that?! 

At exactly 5 o'clock, I got in my car and drove to out dump--er, house--and knocked (gently so the door didn't break). I didn't expect any parts of the house to be clean. I didn't expect to walk through the kitchen and into the bedroom to find fairy lights strung in the corners and on the ceiling. I didn't expect to see a table with two chairs and candles, set with plates and full silverware. I didn't expect red Chinese takeout boxes to be perched on top of said plates, and I didn't expect Oh Wonder to be softly playing from a bluetooth speaker. 

But it was.

I think Troye would go to all this trouble. I didn't think he would stand there, in the middle of the room, humming along to Technicolor Beat. I didn't think he would turn and look shy and nervous, which was very unlike him. I didn't think he would softly ask if I liked it, and I didn't expect him to take my hand and start spinning me across the floor, the small tense light in his eyes growing less tense and more tender as he did so. I didn't think he would kneel down on the last beat of the song, kiss my hand, and pull out a box. I didn't think he would stammer and stutter, and I didn't think I would kiss him then and there. I didn't think tears would leak out of my eyes as I nodded, and I didn't think he would slide the ring gently onto my finger.

But he did.

I was his, and he was mine. No, it was more than that. We were part of each-other--without him, I wasn't whole, and vice versa. We were two halves of one heart that beat for two.

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ew my wifi is so bad bc im traveling wtf

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xx, Caroline (i forget to do this)