ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴᴇ // 𝐦𝐠𝐜 - 𝐚𝐟𝐢

CIGARETTE 24

CIGARETTE 24

The last day of summer break came faster than I would want it to. I said goodbye to my family and I'm already on my way to NYU campus with Michael.

The purple-haired purposed for me to to stay in his "studio", but I refused, saying that I would share a dorm with Elle, like I should had never stopped doing.

In NYU, after the first year, the university offers a program of apartments for upperclass students, meaning you can share an apartment with more students.

Elle and I studied our options and decided to choose The Residential College at Broome Street, the same Hall we chose in semaphore year. We'll share a room that has  a kitchenette and a bathroom.

Michael parks his car in front of the building and helps me carry some of my things to my dorm.

After picking up my key at the front desk, we go to the elevator, pushing the button for the 8th floor.

We get inside and it's still empty, meaning Elle hasn't arrived.

The dorm has two beds, one in each side of the room, two desks along  with two chests of drawers and in the middle is a round table with two chairs. It's simple and don't have much, as expected.

I start setting my things up, choosing the left side of the dorm and Michael helps me, asking every two seconds where he should put my stuff.

Besides my clothes and the essentials, I brought picture frames to hang on the wall and set on my desk, a few books, two pillows, a mirror,  a bedside table and a lamp. And yes, I brought a bedside table along with a lamp. The dorms don't have much furniture and I knew I would need one. I came prepared this time.

After an hour or so and more two quick trips to the car, we finish and still no signs of Elle. I text them, asking where they are and they say that are leaving Brooklyn now. Their brother is drooping them.

"I have something in the car for you." Michael says, leaving the dorm and closing the door. I don't even have time to say something.

Ten minutes pass by and a knock on the door is heard. I open the door and Michael is caring this big rectangle wrapped in brown paper. It looks like a canvas.

The green-eyed hand it to me, telling me to open it. I sit down on the bed, with the lookalike wrapped up canvas in my lap and Michael is standing in front of me.

Carefully, I rip the wrapping paper, and it slowly starts to show what underneath. It's the canvas Michael painted of me for his portrait class.

I saw him painting it and accompanied the whole process, but I get amazed every time I see it.

"Michael..."

"It's not a surprised, I know. You've seen it before. Mr. Adams gave it back to me and I thought you're the one who should keep it."

"Thank you!" I push the canvas to the side and set up, hugging him.

"You don't need to thank me."

Michael helps me hang the canvas on the wall, above my bed.

He receives a call and for his face, I can see he's to really happy.