Tell Me The Same (Brandon Rogers)

31. Moving In

I wake the next morning, the sun rays shining through my blinds and lighting up my room. I could feel Brandon's breathing tickling the hair on my neck and turned over to face him. He looks peaceful a she sleeps, his hair messily fallen across his face.
My heart fills with love, he cares so much for me and has helped me as much as he can, through so much. I delicately run my fingers along his cheekbone, sliding back to push his hair behind his ear.

I swear, as soon as I get better I will get us out of this mess.

.

I sat at the kitchen counter, freshly showered, a cup of coffee in one hand, phone in the other. I had already taken my medicine for the day and had moved on to my job search.
My landlord came to me a couple of days ago, said I needed to be out before the week was over or pay in full what I owed, and as the days kept going I fully realized that I was going to have to leave. Today I was going to tell Brandon all of this, I kept him in the dark about it too long anyways.

Ten, then twenty minutes passed and I grew frustrated, feeling as if I was just retracing steps and running around in circles. I rub my face, letting out a frustrated groan. My hands shook, the intensity not nearly as bad as it has been. It was bearable.
Deciding to take a break from that, I scavenged the fridge for food, ultimately deciding on making omelettes for both Brandon and I.

With hands as steady as I possibly could get them, I cut the array of vegetables and prepare the eggs. Within minutes I have a made us both 'breakfast', though unsure of whether or not I could call it that since the clock had already hit 12.
I creep in to my room, both plates in either hand, "Braandonn, wake up!" I say rather loudly as I step over, sliding back in to my side of the bed.

He doesn't respond, instead continues to lay there, eyes closed delicately yet face smashed haphazardly in to a pillow.
I place the plates on the night stand and throw myself across Brandon, I yell out his name once more.
"Whaaat?" He stirs, rolling over on to his stomach and covering his head with the pillow.
I sit up and straddle his blanketed back, "I made you food, now you have to eat it." I tell him.
He pokes his head out from under the pillow and looks back at me, "You made me food?" He asks, "That's super fucking sweet." He looks over at the omelettes.

I laugh, rubbing my hands against his bare shoulders, "Don't act too surprised now, I have done this plenty of times." I think about it for a moment, "Actually, no I haven't."
Brandon's body shakes as he chuckles, laying his head down on top of the pillow now. I continue rubbing his back for about a minute longer before giving him a pat and rolling off.
"Okay, enough of that, eat your food before it gets cold." I reach over to grab his plate and pass it over.

He takes the plate, now sitting up with me and begins eating. We eat in a comfortable silence only interrupted when Brandon finishes his food and thanks me.
"No problem." I take his plate and stand up off the bed, "Hurry up and go shower, You smell like sea salt and sweat." I tease.
"You didn't seem to mind last night!" He yells after me, sliding out of the bed himself and picking his clothes off the ground.
I pause in the doorway, looking back at him. "Quiet down! I have neighbors and the walls aren't thick!" I protest.

He stares me straight in the eyes, a mischievous grin on his face, "Oh my god, the sex last night was sooo goo—" he begins to yell.
"Brandon George Rogers I am going to beat you!" I yell over him, embarrassed out of my mind.
"Kinky." He winks at me.
"Oh my fucking god." I roll my eyes, leaving the room with my middle finger up in his direction. 
"You love me!" I hear him laugh.
"Go shower!" I answer.

I wash and rinse the dishes in cold water, I was hyping myself up for the talk I would have with Brandon once he got out. 
I knew with my very being he'd let me move in with him, but the sheer embarrassment was overwhelming in itself. 
But the minutes pass by quickly and he's out of the shower, pants on but no shirt and shaggy wet hair. 

"Hey, can I borrow a shirt?" He asks, "I remember you have one that's maybe three times too big for you and I like it a lot." 
I walk back in to my room with him, "Of course." I tell him and dig around in my dresser for a few seconds, pulling out the navy and orange striped shirt that was in fact far too big for me and a men's anyways. He takes it and slips it on over his shoulders, it fit him really well.

I stare at him, he's rubbing the towel through his hair crazily.
"I need to talk about something with you." I blurt out, causing him to stop and go stiff.
"Well if that isn't the scariest way to start a sentence I don't know what is," He tries to joke away his uneasiness. 
I smile, an apologetic smile, "It's just.." I try to think of an easy way to put it but give up, "I'm getting kicked out Brandon."

I watch as his eyes go wide, "What?" He asks, shocked.
"I haven't been able to pay rent and now I'm getting kicked out in a few days, and I.. I don't know." I stutter, looking away from him.
"Why didn't you tell me weeks ago? I could have helped--I could have--" He starts but I stop him quickly.
"I was too embarrassed, I wanted to be able to handle it myself. You know? But I've had no luck with jobs." My hands ball in to fist, "Life really does hate me right now." I let out a bitter chuckle.

It was Brandon's turn to give me an apologetic smile now, "Well let's kick life's ass then... What's your plan?" 
I let out a sigh, looking him in his dark brown eyes, "You. You're my plan." I admit.
He leans down, resting his forehead against mine, "Thank god! I thought I was never going to get you to move in with me." He holds my head, "Thought I'd have to kidnap you or something." 
I laugh at him, placing my hands over his."Thank you, so much."

.

We started packing that day, turns out I had a lot of shit, far too much shit. I could sense Brandon's excitement with each box he helped me fill and carry out to our cars. 
"Look, as soon as I get a job I'll help pay for everything, Or I'll move back out." I tell Brandon as I put art supplies I had forgotten I had in boxes and he put away dishware. 
"Hey, you don't have to worry about that. I know what it's like to be in job limbo, It'll be fine." I watch a she almost drops one of my coffee mugs.
"Be careful!" I exclaim and he waves me off.

It took two whole days, up to the very last minute for us to get everything out of my apartment.
I wasn't so sure how I was supposed to fit.. anything in to Brandon's so with the last little bit of my money, including the coins we found around the house, I rented a storage building. 
That's where a majority of my things went. Almost exclusively my art stuff stayed in his place. That and the other few necessities. 
It would be a lie if I said his--our apartment was crowded now.. But it was okay.

Saying goodbye to Mrs. Pataki was the hardest part of it all. Tears were shed as she told me to stay in touch and be strong, she made Brandon promise to take care of me and treat me as if I were a queen. We laughed and had dinner one last time together.
And now I sit against Brandon in our bed, one I have slept in a number of times but now felt different. He edits on his laptop as I doze, thinking of how good things will come and how content I am now in this moment.