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"Sting, I'm home!" You call, shutting the door behind you. You were just back from your afternoon classes- an assortment of science and mathematics that made you want to pull your hair out.
It felt abnormal to say that- you now shared a home, the phrase feeling strange on your tongue. However, the feeling left a tingling sensation behind by the thought of being closer to Sting.
"I bought those glazed donuts you liked- huh?"
Expecting to see waves of unopened boxes in the narrow hallway, you were astonished to see none.
You stood gaping in the hallway. You were sure if you started any longer, the treats would become moldy. Did Sting... unpack on his own? No, he's too lazy for that. And if he did, why would everything here be bare and empty?
You kicked off your shoes, dumping your jacket on the floor.
"Sting...?"
You wandered into the living room, imagining the bare room in your mind with its peeling wallpaper and earthy smell. Of course, that would soon be filled up with faux leather couches, flamingo-pink pillows, and cozy crème table lamps.
Instead, what you saw next made you sigh in defeat.
You should've known.
The missing cardboard boxes were stacked until several high, taking up most of the space in the room. You realized, with an amused shake of your head, that the boxes were walls with an open area inside- stacked to be a castle. Windows were drawn onto the cardboard as well as patches of stones. A silk navy bed sheet went from one end to the other for the top, two others hanging down to represent its majestic doors.
To add to the magical appearance, Sting had closed the curtains and turned on the lamps, setting them around the structure. It almost made the castle seem to emit a saffron yellow glow.
Sting's head poked out of the curtains.
He grins that grin at you; the one that knows just what he's doing, just how much it irritates you, but also the one you fell in love with.
"Hey," you started, eyes trekking one more time over his creation. "what's this?"
"Your palace, my lady," he winks.
He emerges from the blankets- still wearing the clothes he went to uni with. He bows, taking my hand with fingertips smudged in permanent marker, dropping a kiss into my hand. I flush and swat him away.
"Sting, it's almost dinner time..."
He shushes you, accompanying it with one of his iconic winks. Taking both of your hands, he leads you into the wonderland of boxes and blankets and Christmas lights.
It looked even cozier inside. Pillows covered the the hard floor, the mini-lamps casting shimmers of red, blue, and green over the creases of the cloth and the breaches of the cardboard.
"Comfy," you state lamely, despite it being an incredible understatement. However, at the moment with the shadows falling across Sting's face, showing off his sharp jawline and nose, sloping into his high cheekbones, you were distracted by other things then the adorable set-up. "all we need is a throne and we'll be good!" you joke.
"It's true though baby, you will always be my queen."
And the way he looked at you then, made your heart lurch in your chest, setting your cheeks ablaze with stifling heat. As if everything around him was just empty obsidian space, and you were the pulsing sun that he circulated in his continuous orbit, taking in it's gracious sunlight.
But the sun wanted that planet more then he knew.
"Come here," You murmur, pulling him towards you by the blue hem of his shirt.
You kiss him gingerly; a tender brush of pillow-soft lips against each other. He doesn't resist- already under your spell the moment your eyes filled with childlike wonder when you entered the castle. Even if it was only a couple of old boxes and blankets and second-hand lamps, you still had the reaction he expected- but he hadn't' realized how real it would be until it actually happened.
The two lovers kissed under the multitude of lights, under a bed sheet, in a crummy apartment building that was older then it should have been.
But they were perfectly content, as long as they had each other.
