Perfectly Imperfect

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Two piles of cardboard boxes occupied most of the space on the living room. In my defense, it was a small apartment. The front door creaked and I heard Chris groan as he placed the last box on top of the pile.

I gazed at him as he wiped a trail of sweat that had formed over his hairline with the back of his hand. "What on earth did you bring, your whole house?" He leaned on the box, watching me intensely. His lips curved up on a mischievous grin, too.

It was my first official day as a New Yorker.

I'd spent the Winter holidays at my parent's house but we'd been inseparable since the moment I got back from California. My parents had been quite supportive, Luke too. They all knew how much we'd missed each other over the last months. We'd skyped and messaged all the time, but it had still been hard. Especially for Chris. He had to deal with all the emotional withdrawals from his father treatment. I was with him all the way, though.

We had long-night talks, where he'd let out how frustrating he felt every time there was a step-back, or how happy he was, when the medications finally kicked in and Luke started to feel better.

It had been a long process, but Luke was past the dangerous stage. He was still getting chemotherapies, but despite the fact that the treatment was ruthless, he was getting through. He'd been the one to push Chris into getting an apartment and transferring to New York. He didn't have to push him too much, though. The moment my transfer was official, Chris asked me to come live with him.

He'd moved out his father's house in early December, trying to sort out everything for what would be, our little home. He'd found a small loft near Cassie's apartment. It wasn't posh or modern like our friend's, but it didn't matter, it was ours.

It consisted of a one-bed room, open-spaced tiny loft. We had a small kitchen with basic appliances. The kitchen bar served as our table and it also worked out as a division from the rest of the place. A flat-screen in front of a love seat worked out as our living room.

The apartment was small but it was pretty much empty. That is, until the moving truck arrived with my things. Half of the boxes where from my belongings at my parent's house, and the other half where the things Mom had gotten for us.

She may have gotten carried away while trying to get us enough things to kick-start our life together, but I wasn't complaining.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I raised an eyebrow at him, still smiling.

Chris shrugged. "I didn't know your mom was so eager to kick you out of the house. I mean, it makes me wonder what kind of nasty habits you may have, and I might even reconsider this whole house-arrangement thing." He leaned on his elbows, a wide smirk playing on his lips.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're stuck with me, pal."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's your first day here and you've invaded half the house. Literally," he gestured to the pile of boxes.

I chuckled. "I don't even know what's in half of them!"

"I'm in no rush to unpack," he murmured glancing around the room.

"Me neither." I swept away the annoying wisp of hair that always fell over my eyes. "I'm hungry, actually," I mumbled as I dodged around the boxes reaching the kitchen. "Do you want water?" I gazed at him for a second, as I stood in front of the fridge. He grimaced. Curiosity spiked in me and I had to pull open the door. It was completely empty. There was only a small Chinese take-out cardboard box.

Frowning, I glanced at Chris. "Is this the normal state of your fridge?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Pretty much. I suspect it's going to stay the same, since you know, you're not chef material."

I gaped at him. He did not say that. "You're such a meanie!" I placed both hands on my hips after closing the fridge. I didn't even venture in the freezer. "I did learn a few Californian ways and we have to eat healthy, Chris. And you're buying dinner tonight, pal."

He cracked up at that. He straightened and sauntered towards me. "Are you going to make me eat broccoli?" his tone was husky and his eyes were piercing as he reached me. My heart flipped at the way he was staring at me. Gosh. How could he even make broccoli sound sexy?

"It's good for you," I murmured, a bit mesmerized at him. He leaned closer to me, his minty breathing mingling with mine, making my stomach curl. "Things are going to change around here, Chris."

His eyes sparkled happily, "I couldn't expect less from you, bookie."

"You're too imperfect, Chris." I quipped, wrapping my arms around him.

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he pulled me closer to him. "And you're too perfect, Farah."

My whole body buzzed as he brushed his lips on my neck. "I say, we're the ideal couple," I murmured breathless as I tilted my head, giving him full-access.

I felt his lips tug up as he trailed soft kisses down my neck. "And I'll have to agree or you'll slap me."

I straightened, pulling apart, feeling all warm as he gazed lovingly at me, a coy smile on his face. I narrowed my eyes. "You make me sound scary," I patted his chest loving how great it felt to be in his arms.

He chuckled, "that's because you are."

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed him by the t-shirt, standing on the tip of my toes and crashing my lips on his.

I'd never been as happier as I was in that moment.

I knew that we still had many things to learn, many bridges to cross. But we loved each other, and when there's love, you can conquer all.

Even if you're perfectly imperfect as Chris and me.

Thank you SO MUCH for getting here. 

I wrote this story a long time ago, and while I know there are a few mistakes, I just wanted to share it with you.

Your comments mean the world to me. Thank you.