“The wall between the living room and the kitchen only,” Margo decided. “We might need those spare rooms for drunks.”
She stepped away from Eliot, and eyed the walls. “But let’s draft up a plan before we get overexcited, shall we? We don’t even know what style we want yet. Maybe something. . . vintage?”
She held out her arms. She pulled them towards herself, crossing them until they formed a perfect ‘X’, and bent her hands back. She thought about the size of the space, the waning crescent, the bubbling anxiety at the root of her stomach that she’d been burying. Her arms slid out of position, pushing outward. Dark wallpaper with hints of green spread across the back wall. Whatever wood it touched turned a deeper, richer color, until the back of the living room closely resembled the communal space at the Cottage.
no subject
She stepped away from Eliot, and eyed the walls. “But let’s draft up a plan before we get overexcited, shall we? We don’t even know what style we want yet. Maybe something. . . vintage?”
She held out her arms. She pulled them towards herself, crossing them until they formed a perfect ‘X’, and bent her hands back. She thought about the size of the space, the waning crescent, the bubbling anxiety at the root of her stomach that she’d been burying. Her arms slid out of position, pushing outward. Dark wallpaper with hints of green spread across the back wall. Whatever wood it touched turned a deeper, richer color, until the back of the living room closely resembled the communal space at the Cottage.
“Hm? Or do we want something more modern?”