sawyer-walker:
“I could not be happier to hear you say those words.“ Sawyer looked content as he tried to reposition himself in the odd chair he found himself in. It wasn’t as if he’d been fishing to purchase the two foot tall white horse or anything. Validation was everything. Though, it appeared that chairs would still be on the receipt too.
”No, no.“ Sawyer’s protest came on swift. He struggled for a moment to pull himself out of the chair before he was standing once more on the faux cow hide rug that dominated the majority of the living room. “Hard pass.“ He said, brow knitting together before he took a drink to quell the idea of his living room becoming a scene from a spaghetti western. “Let’s find another room. That chair is not the business. The whole aesthetic is wrong.“ He said, looking as pretentious as a man could leaving a western themed room a cup of wine in one hand, scooping up a horse with the other. “Come, come.“
She wasn’t entirely surprised the room was given a hard pass, but Sawyer scooped up the horse and Audrey fetl herself victorious nevertheless. At the rate they were going, they’d have at least one thing from every room they visited.
❞ I’m sorry, do you mind if I-- -❞ One arm was snaking around the crook of his elbow while her other hand worked at his cup, switching the positions so -- - if he would allow it - -- he’d be holding her empty wine cup and his own, one fitting into the other rather meticulously. ❞ A turn to Sawyer, ❝Thank you. You know how I feel about waste,❞ her voice was all too posh, reminiscent of her adoptive mother’s as she pressed the stacked cups into his hand.
As they perused the aisles, Audrey seemed in the middle of something intangible -- - an idea at the precipice of her mind, one that tugged and pulled the fabric of her very consciousness. But fuck that! All at once, she pulled him into the depths of the living section, just at the edge of the home improvement quarter that housed the unrealized dreams of a number of husbands and men.
❝We’re looking for something that will stand the test of the weather, right?❞ Audrey half-heartedly looked at her chosen venue before she cast a glance at the organized rooms of the rest of the Ikea -- - the Ikea people liked to speak about; the Ikea that didn’t solely sell light-bulbs and faucets. ❝We’ve got to find something that matches -- - wait, did you decide on a name?❞ She nodded toward the horse and then to her cart, indicating that he could deposit the statue within its confines.
