If You Must

All That We Are Is Away

Simon

The box in my hands is heavy. The corners of the cardboard bite into my skin, where light scratch lines from previous boxes already cover nearly the entire surface of my forearms. I ignore the discomfort, standing perfectly still in the doorway of my room, staring. Just staring. The walls are blank and barren, the floor too open and empty. A barren wasteland.

We've spent today packing up my room, Penny helping me box things and Baz driving the boxes to his flat.

This whole process started with a conversation about Micah at breakfast this morning. I mentioned staying at Baz's place while Micah is here, to give him and Penny some space. Then we called Baz to make sure he's okay with me invading his space for however long Micah will be here (he said yes, of course, as Penny predicted, but I just wanted to be sure). And then Baz suggested that I just move in with him ("We'll be moving in together anyway. Why not do it now?"). And now here I am, staring at the empty space that used to be my room, my gut churning in excitement and magic sparking at my fingertips (I'm trying really hard not to set the box on fire). This is the very last box; it's full of the photographs from my wall.

I'm ridiculously happy to be moving in with Baz. Honestly, I'm surprised we haven't moved in together before now. I'm going to miss living with Penny, but she'll be getting married soon enough too, so I suppose leaving her has always been sort of inevitable. Besides, I'll still visit her. Even if she decides to move to America with Micah.

"Simon!" Comes Penny's voice from the kitchen. "Baz just texted me to tell you to read your texts!" I shake my head, emerging from my nostalgic stupor. Setting the box down, I pat my pockets, searching for my mobile.

"Have you seen my mobile?" I shout back at her.

"Honestly, Simon, you'll lose your head next! It's right where you left it by the television!" Rolling my eyes, I meander into the sitting room, snatching up my mobile as I pass the TV. Sure enough, there's about twenty texts from my ridiculous fiancé and three missed calls. Sheepishly, I call him back.

"Did you leave your mobile in a random place again?" Baz asks, in lieu of a hello. I grin, sitting down on the couch.

"Me? Never. What's up?"

"Just wanted to know if you had any more boxes. And if you want to go out to dinner with me." A light blush warms my cheeks, and I smile to myself.

"On a date?" I ask. One hand pushes absentmindedly through my hair.

"On a date. We haven't been on one in a while," he replies. I can hear him smiling.

"I would love to go on a date with you. Want to drive over and pick me and the last box up?"

"I would absolutely love to."