Ashleigh glanced around her tiny apartment, remembering (almost with shame) how amazing his flat had been. He seriously could not think that this closet of an apartment was nice. Did he mean it? Or was he being polite.
“Not so much design my place as it sort of…fell together,” Couldn’t he see the paint that had started to peel back away from the ceiling in the corners? The leaky faucet and the smell coming from her neighbor’s Indian food? Maybe, because it was hers, she saw all the faults in it. Who knew for sure right? Ashleigh hooked her thumbs in her jean pockets and watched as Wes took in the entirety of her apartment. It was almost as if this was another thing for him to marvel at, her home. The way she lived.
She wished she had known that he would be coming up, with the stacks of books that were piled around next to the walls, she felt like she was living in the middle of a book shop or something-- not something she disliked, it was just not presentable. “Grand tour? This is my living room,” She glanced around them, nodding slightly. “Kitchen and bathroom are through here,” Ashleigh walked over to the yellow door frame to their left and gestured towards the kitchen that was full of various bright blues and whites. A stark change to the very yellow of the living room.
“And my room is over there,” She pointed to the door that was directly across from them. “Where I am going to go now and change. But feel free to, you know,” She lifted a hand to scratch the back of her head nervously. “Look around.” Ashleigh bit her lower lip as her gaze met Wes’. She felt her heart catch within her chest as she peered into those ageless eyes.
It took her a moment to catch her self. With a shake of the head, and a small laugh, Ashleigh lowered her eyes from Weston’s and headed to her room.