(no subject)
Continued from Here
Things were looking up from my point of view. I had found myself a new place. There was something off about it, I knew that much. But it didn't matter. Neither Buffy nor myself had felt anything really threatening as we'd been checking out the building. But it was so cheap, there *had* to be something wrong with it. I suspect it's being haunted, which is an issue that could easily be solved if the ghosts were plotting evil. If not, the I'm sure we could live in the same building together.
And I had a girl who didn't look at me as though I were the lowest of the lowest. And who would've ever thought that Buffy Summers would look at me as though she might like me more then just a little bit. Still, one mustn't assume. Which I wasn't, but there were still my own feelings to consider. Which were confusing to say the least. Especially with everything that has been going on of late. Angel, Connor, me almost dying. Twice, if you count the nice pillow attack.
And now here we were. At Buffy's house, looking for furniture. I had no bloody clue about furniture, as Cordelia and Fred had pointed out on several occasions. Though, I think they can hardly fault me for not being able to pick out bloody baby furniture. But when it came to office and my own furniture? It would seem I was just as much of a disaster. And so, apparently, as Buffy. Or so she thought. At least she had idea's, unlike myself.
"Cherry wood?" I frowned, and then clicked on link to look at said cherry wood. It did look nice and warm, if not a little to reddish for my taste. "I think wood is nice," I nodded, clicking on another link. "Oh I like this one, what do you think?" Not too dark, but not the light wood either. "And you certainly are helping, love," I smiled at her, rubbing my free hand over her knee.
Things were looking up from my point of view. I had found myself a new place. There was something off about it, I knew that much. But it didn't matter. Neither Buffy nor myself had felt anything really threatening as we'd been checking out the building. But it was so cheap, there *had* to be something wrong with it. I suspect it's being haunted, which is an issue that could easily be solved if the ghosts were plotting evil. If not, the I'm sure we could live in the same building together.
And I had a girl who didn't look at me as though I were the lowest of the lowest. And who would've ever thought that Buffy Summers would look at me as though she might like me more then just a little bit. Still, one mustn't assume. Which I wasn't, but there were still my own feelings to consider. Which were confusing to say the least. Especially with everything that has been going on of late. Angel, Connor, me almost dying. Twice, if you count the nice pillow attack.
And now here we were. At Buffy's house, looking for furniture. I had no bloody clue about furniture, as Cordelia and Fred had pointed out on several occasions. Though, I think they can hardly fault me for not being able to pick out bloody baby furniture. But when it came to office and my own furniture? It would seem I was just as much of a disaster. And so, apparently, as Buffy. Or so she thought. At least she had idea's, unlike myself.
"Cherry wood?" I frowned, and then clicked on link to look at said cherry wood. It did look nice and warm, if not a little to reddish for my taste. "I think wood is nice," I nodded, clicking on another link. "Oh I like this one, what do you think?" Not too dark, but not the light wood either. "And you certainly are helping, love," I smiled at her, rubbing my free hand over her knee.