“anything, just call me, okay?” feuilly/bahorel? :)
Bahorel put the very last box down, one of many. For someone who had just left such a small apartment, Feuilly had more possessions that he let on. Mostly books, though. His impressive collection only fit between four walls thanks to physics and years of playing Jenga.
Standing in an ocean of cardboard boxes, Bahorel and Feuilly looked around them. The apartment gave off a strong smell of paint, but neither of them minded. Feuilly had a big smile on his face, a smile of new beginnings and good days to come. Bahorel massaged the back of his neck. His shoulders were slightly sore from the continuous lifting.
“So that’s your new lair, then?” he asked, looking at the naked walls.
“Yeah! How do you like it?” Feuilly enthused.
Too far away from my apartment, was the first thing popping to Bahorel’s mind. It would be hard not to live in the same building anymore.
“Nice, but a bit dry,” he said instead, flashing a wide grin.
Feuilly opened the cooler they had bothered to carry up the steps and threw a beer in his direction. The just reward for a job done well. Bahorel knew guys that worked in the furniture removal business, he could have easily convinced them to help Feuilly for free. He could have, yes, if he didn’t relish every single moment they spent together. Alone.
“Thank you for taking the time, Baz,” Feuilly smiled.
“Don’t worry. I earn free beer and you got a free ticket for the gun show.”
“Damn,” Feuilly snorted in his bottle. “And I who though I was being subtle!”
“No but seriously, I’m here if you need anything. I’m going to miss your mug around the building, anyway.”
“Well I can’t exactly ask you to stroll around Ikea with me.”
“Anything. Just call me, okay?”
