Sunnyside (a Sebastian Stan story)

Notes, Bubbles, and a Hurricane

   I dropped a box on the floor with a thud, opening the cabinets and sitting beside it. I had, sadly, spent a good thirty minutes deciding where the most convenient storage would be for everything from mixing bowls to my cherry pitter. Sam had helped me bring the last of my things to the new apartment, and she was now busying herself with making my bed and putting away my linens and towels.

  Thankfully, the stress of moving had alleviated by the fact that I had so thoroughly eliminated all my unnecessary belongings. Bonnie insisting on hiring a small crew of men to move my furniture probably hadn't hurt either. Even so, putting everything in it's place was therapeutic in a way I hadn’t realized I needed, and I hummed quietly to myself as I filled the cabinets. I reached blindly into the box by my side and was surprised when my hand met something thin, flat, and smooth.

I pulled the envelope out and smiled when I saw my name in Sebastian's handwriting on the front. I broke the seal and laughed when I read the message on the card inside.

I’m going to guess this the first box you unpacked. That’s good, because I’ll be over for dinner. Don’t worry, I’m bringing wine. Can’t wait to celebrate your new place with you!

-Sebastian

   Sam came into the room and stretched herself out on the countertop the way a lounge singer might lay on a piano. “Whatcha got there?” I handed her the card and let her read it. “It would appear he’s left a few little notes for you,” she said, pulling a small, square envelope from her back pocket and handing it to me. I scrambled to my feet and pushed on her, sliding her farther back on the island so I could sit in front of her while I ripped open the envelope.

I’m going to draw you the perfect bath so you can relax after your move. Candles and bubble bath are on me.

-Sebastian

   Sam sat up and swung her long legs over the side of the counter. “How many of those do you suppose he left for you?”

   I shrugged. “No idea, but even if it’s just these two…”

   “He knows you well,” she pointed out, hopping to the floor and grabbing my to-do list from the counter opposite us, just next to the sink. “He knew what was going to be at the top of your list.” She tossed it over to me and I looked at it. The top four items were “Bed, linens and towels, dishes/pots and pans” and “closet”. It made me wonder if he’d hidden anything in with my clothes or shoes.

   “Most people just start opening boxes, you know,” Sam chuckled.

   “It’s more efficient if I take care of things in the right order. The stuff I need to eat, sleep, bathe, and clothe myself obviously needs to come first.”

   She raised an eyebrow and shook her head with half a smile on her face. “You’re right. But I still think it’s funny that you needed to write it down and didn’t just put a general ‘unpack’ on your famous list and do it that way without having it broken down so far.”

   “This is what works for me.”

   “Right well, will it throw you off terribly if I unpack my housewarming gift next?” She pulled my list away from me and pulled my hands to her cheeks. “Please let me?”

   I laughed and squished her cheeks, forcing her mouth into a fish-like ‘“o”. “You didn’t need to get anything for me, Sam.”

   “Well, suck it. I did,” she said. Of course it came out sounding more like “thuckit”, causing us both to giggle. I released her face and she walked to the second bedroom- a room I hadn’t spent any time at all in yet that day- and came back holding a framed pencil drawing that took my breath away. I female face obscured a cloud of dirty smoke, her body hidden by a riot of flowers that slowly bled from black and white to color.