This Relationship of Ours (+Extras)

Slip Up

post breakup blurb
***

Mia isn't the type to ever slip. When she gets stuck on an idea, there's nothing that can make her change her mind about it, and she has nobody to blame for that except her nature. She's just built like that, and many people in her life have applauded her for it, since they'd rather have that as a trait rather than being fickle. She's always stuck by this way of living.

She's settled down into bed and waited for sleep to come to her in her brand new flat. It's 7, but 4 in New York, which means nap time. She's just finished assembling her bed (and so what if it's just two mattresses piled on top of each other? It's hard doing all this alone!) next to the outlet, opening up her window to let in the August breeze of London. It's been raining for so long, but she opens the window to allow the pattering to put her to sleep. Because of the rain, there aren't many people outside at this time, so she takes advantage of it. Normally, she has to put some soft music on to put her to sleep to block out the sounds from the loud cars. She hopes she'll get used to the cars, because it's only worse during rush hour. Naps will be so difficult. Mia depends on naps.

Plus, jet lag has been awful to her. Only here for two weeks and she's still getting used to time zones. She meets up with her new friend, Amara, for lunch nearly every day, yet she's half asleep every time. It's been so meticulous getting her sleep schedule straightened out, and no matter how hard she tries, she drink at least one cup of coffee a day in hopes to wake herself up, however by nighttime, she's wide awake.

Mia's never lived alone before. She feels small in her apartment, glancing around at all the boxes she has yet to unpack. Her clothes are still in the suitcase in the corner of the room, her closet empty, and her kitchen utensils still packed with bubble wrap carefully taped around them. She'd done that herself as well.

As she lays there, she wonders when she'd become independent. She had plenty of friends that she'd left behind in America, but many hadn't really bothered to text her daily. Amara offered to help unpack nearly every day, but Mia didn't want to be such a burden on her. A part of Mia thinks that she's been so accustomed to being with someone for the majority of the past two years, that she needs a breather from people, an escape. The empty, white walls of her apartment should be comforting to her. She can talk as loud as she wants to, she can play music to her liking, just as long as it's not after 10 pm, and she can be herself. She can be creative. She's chosen this life for herself, and she's the kind of person to stick to her decisions. Mia is stubborn; so many people have called her that before.

When the rain slowly stops, she realizes a few minutes have gone by. She's been staring blankly at the ceiling for the longest time, and she shakes her head, blinking quickly to fix her strained eyes. Slowly, she sits up and reaches for her phone. There aren't any messages except one from Amara. It reads, I'm free tomorrow if you need help decorating your place!

Mia replies with a sincere thank you and rejects her offer.

She doesn't exactly have any pictures to put up on her wall, mainly because the most recent ones had someone she didn't want to think about every day, but less look at first thing in the morning when she woke up. She didn't want to have to scowl at the pictures of them as she poured her steaming coffee into her cup. She didn't want to have to be so aware of his eyes on her as she changed her clothes or got ready for a bath.

However, now that she's thinking about it, it hits her as to why her old friends aren't texting her. She's spent most of the past two years with Harry, so wasn't it her who pushed them all away?

Harry. That's the name of the person in the photos. Mia has to admit she's kept a few pictures she's taken of them with a disposable camera, but she hasn't looked at them yet, unsure what to do with them. She's sure Amara will get a hold of them soon because of the way the curious girl looks around her apartment and lays her chin in her palm to ask her about her life in New York. One day, his name is going to slip and come up in a conversation.