One day I'll have it all. // Williamson

Kisses and tears

"You still didn't decorate your flat?" Leah asked me when I let her enter my apartment.

I closed the door behind us and threw my bag on the couch, before shrugging.

"Yes, I did. Look, I framed an Arsenal jersey." I said, pointing to the spot where I had hung the said jersey.

Leah rolled her eyes at my words, walking to the framework and lifting it slightly to look behind it. Of course, the jersey was flocked with her name and number.

She looked at me and smiled, before winking and letting go of the jersey. "Good girl."

I violently blushed at her words, hiding my reaction by walking to the kitchen hastily. She had seen it though, judging by the playful laugh I heard coming from the living room. "You want something to drink?" I asked her, and she joined me in the kitchen, still looking around to see if anything had changed since the last time she was here.

"Sure, I'll take some tea, thanks." She said, and I turned around immediately.

"Yeah, no, I don't have that." Leah's eyes widened at my answer.

"No tea? What kind of Brit are you?" She asked dramatically, and I rolled my eyes, smirking at her reaction.

"An American one." I then replied. "I have coffee, water, juice, and hum... a mysterious liquid in a three-days-old Starbucks cup," I said, bending down to look at the inside of my fridge.

Leah chuckled at my suggestions. "I'll just take water. I don't plan on dying just yet," she said, and I shrugged, closing the door of the fridge with my foot, a bottle of water in each hand.

"Suit yourself," I said, then threw her a bottle, that she nimbly caught.

She twisted off the cap and took a long sip, her gaze drifting around my sparsely decorated apartment.

"So, when are you going to add some personality to this place?" she teased, gesturing to the bare walls and minimalist furnishings.

I chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing my arms. "Hey, I like it this way. Less clutter means less to clean," I replied, trying to deflect her playful criticism.

"You didn't even put curtains on your windows." She said, and I shrugged. I didn't think I needed any. "I swear sometimes you're so boyish."

"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, acting offended, and she offered me a 'really?' kind of look.

"The most personal thing in your place is a Spider-Man edition PlayStation 5. You have a single peanut waiting for you on your coffee table, and the only frame you put on the wall is crooked."

"Is it?" I asked, honestly surprised. I glanced over at the framed jersey, noticing for the first time that it was indeed slightly askew. Leah laughed at my realization.

"Yeah, it's definitely crooked," she confirmed, her grin widening. "But don't worry, I'll fix it for you."

Before I could protest, Leah strode over to the wall and deftly straightened the frame, her movements confident and purposeful. As she stepped back to admire her handiwork, I chuckled, walking to her and observing her 'work', sipping on my water bottle.

"Why, thank you, Bob the Builder."

Leah laughed at my remark, giving me a playful shove before turning to face me. "Someone's gotta do the work,"

"You know what? You're right. And because you've been so kind doing it for me, you can eat the coffee table peanut."

Leah raised an eyebrow at my offer, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Wow, what a generous offer," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.