cleaning?

[gwen_the_freak]

I actually fucking picked up around the place. I hadn't really unpacked all my shit, but I've almost finished doing that too. Laundry? Not so easy. I generally send my shit out- but I felt like being domestic and proving to myself that I'm not a spoiled brat. I am, apparently. The real reason for the cleaning and the ironing and the unpacking? My

Comments

[primal_heart]

This place was way too swank for the kind of rent I was going to be paying. What happened to a good old fashoined dive.

Least my roomate was hot.

"Hey, I'm Ru." I said, nonchalantally my eyes sweeping across her body as I set my guitar down near the couch.

[gwen_the_freak]

I stood up the second Veruca walked in. She was fucking amazing looking. Not in the sticky model way. In the smothering rock star way. Okay, well, I gathered the rock star part from the guitar.

I stuck my gloved hand out,
"Hey. Gwen. Do you need help with your luggage?"

[primal_heart]

I raised an eyebrow at the gloved hand. I realized that we were in Boston but c'mon. What was up with that? She wasn't one of those weird OCD girls was she?

If I woke up in the middle of the night with her turning light switches on and off seven times exactly I was going to be pissed.

"No thanks. I travel light." I explained with a wolfish grin as I let my one duffel bag fall to the floor.

[gwen_the_freak]

I picked up the duffel anyway, not against my better judgement. I always was that way- grabbing shit.

"Well, your room is this way," I said, gesturing down the hall. Some fucking hostess I was. I started walking down the hall, pointing out the living room, dining room, kitchen as we approached her room.

"Here it is."