a place we know| ✓

twenty nine

"And find a place where every single thing you see tells you to stay."
S E E K E R
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January 4th
3:07 PM
New York
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"So when do we get to see Leah?"

Audrey's smile was draped loosely around the edges of her mouth. "Soon."

Gunner pushed the key into the lock and twisted it carefully, an audible click resounding in the vacant hallway of their apartment building. Her steady gait trailed him inside as he opened the door on its creaking hinges. Their home smelled vaguely of whiskey and smoke, which, courtesy of the open window, circulated around the small living area and into her nose.

It was a scent she became accustomed to all these years–familiar to this place whereas her mother's home carried a faint aroma of lavenders. On some nights, when Audrey closed her eyes and let grief embellish her, she envisioned Denver and her family. She could smell and see and feel everything she left behind.

Here she didn't have to. Audrey was living her days as they came, and no amount of imagining could capture the girth of all she could reminiscent. But favour was starting to shine down on her lately. It came creeping in like the first signs of spring, transient as it always is during its immediate stages, but it guaranteed warmth and welcome. The air around her was energized by the coming of joy and it invited her lips to smile.

She would be receiving custody of her daughter in the coming week.

Audrey hadn't breathed so easily before. Now her body was in sync with her mind. She felt whole rather than estranged from both herself and Gunner. She wasn't a single entity, but the threads of her soul tied themselves to those she loved here and before, sealing their fates, infinitely defining her as more than she was in this place and time.

"I'm so damn tired." Gunner swung the door shut and hastily relieved himself from the constraints of his shoes and jacket. It was only the afternoon and Audrey could sense him slowly doze off when his body slumped onto the couch.

Slipping shoes off her own feet, she slinked towards him and expected nothing different once his head lolled on her shoulder, his eyelids sliding shut. "Don't you want to sleep inside? I'm sure it'll be more comfortable," she suggested.

The rest of him leaned into her side, a lethargic cascade streaming through his nerves and his body slowly going limp in her arms. Audrey smiled. "Come on, Gunner. Go sleep inside."

His breaths were even and calm as he spoke, "I don't want to move, Audrey. I'm fine right here." He rested his head in her lap.

"I'm not," she watched as the expression on his face relaxed. "You're not listening, are you?"

Lacking his typical illustrations of zeal, he looked vulnerable. Audrey combed her fingers through the unruly blonde hair on his head that glided like silk on glass. The hint of a scar garnished his temple on the right side of his face, but while she took it in that he was sleeping on her lap, she admired his beauty.

"I love you." Audrey kissed his cheek; it left a small, wet mark. Gunner rustled and his brows scrunched for a moment, then his arms clasped themselves around her stomach and he went still. She could hear him whisper that he loved her, and a grin crept onto her face.

In the meantime, she knew she wasn't going to get much done with Gunner stuck to her like glue. She disentangled his arms as carefully as she could, stalling whenever he stirred. Venting a sigh of relief, she shifted down the couch, her weight causing a dip in the cushions. His cheek was pressed into the cushion instead of her thighs while the rest of his body was draped over the couch.