18 ✓

SEVENTEEN - PART 2

The knock on the door stilled my heart for a brief second. Shit. It was already seven o'clock. I knew he was coming, yet time passed much more quickly than I could have wanted.

It's just packing. Calm the fuck down, Dylan, I thought to myself.

The hangover I had been nursing all day was still very much present, meaning my tolerance level of handling any of Hunter's annoying antics would be at an all-time low. At least this way, my short-temper might help scare off any lingering desires.

I opened the door, forcing a fake smile. "Hi."

Hunter's hand was propped against the door frame. "Hi," he responded, flashing one of his charming grins, "Ready to pack?"

I was relieved he had at least shown up in clothing that wasn't his usual attire, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"Yup, definitely ready to do that," I said, stepping to the side to let him in.

Hunter looked around. "It still looks the exact same."

"You were here last night."

"I meant from before," he said, turning to me, "And last night, I had my hands full trying to get you to go to sleep and not take my-"

"Alright!" I interjected, "I get it!"

Hunter stepped towards me. "Don't be embarrassed, Angel. I know they say drunk words are sober thoughts, but I'm sure yours were just drunk words."

My eyes narrowed. "We need some rules."

"We need rules to pack?"

"Yes." I took a step back to create distance between us. "No nicknames. No sexual innuendos. No mention of last night. Just putting stuff into boxes. Got it?"

"Got it."

"What-" I cut myself off, realizing he had agreed. "Oh, good. Okay, let's get started then."

I motioned for Hunter to follow, leading him into my art room.

"I need all this stuff packed into these boxes. There is bubble wrap and newspaper to wrap everything in," I instructed, pointing to where everything was in the room. "I need all the canvas wrapped, but double-check with me before you do. Some of them aren't going into storage."

"Are you not packing in here?"

"No, I need to finish up in the kitchen," I said, making my way towards the door, "Think you can handle it?"

"Of course, Ang-" he paused, "Of course, Dylan."

"I ordered us a pizza, by the way. Should be here soon."

I headed back into the kitchen and continued packing. It was a tedious task, wrapping plates in newspaper and packing them into a box. And without someone else around, I consistently put it off. Which was why my small apartment was yet to be done. At least with Hunter here, it would force me to pack up the rooms I was avoiding, in an attempt to not be in the same room as him.

Hunter's help was appreciated. His presence, however, not so much.

"So where are you planning on going?" Hunter called from the other room.

"Moving in with Abby for a bit until I figure everything out," I called back, "I need to figure out everything fast though."

"Why's that?"

"Well, for starters I think I'll have permanent back problems if I sleep on her couch for too long," I said, "And second, I can't paint there. There's not enough space."