September 6th, 1963
Christine waited for Indigo at the bus stop, watching her approach, already struggling with a supply of canvases for the month and chuckled quietly to herself, rushing over to give her a hand.
"Hey."
"Thanks," she said, "Thought I'd get the stuff I needed so I don't have to go back other than for lectures- they were all too happy to offload them."
Christine looked down,
"I can see why...I guess these are damaged?"
"Surface damage, I can work with it," Indigo said, "Oh, the bus is here!"
They quickly walked the rest of the way back, settling down in the front row and smiling at each other.
"Any new work I should know about?"
"Not yet," Indigo rested her head on her shoulder, "Maybe I'll see if I can sell some of my work, instead of looking for commissions."
December 31st, 1963
Christine had been offered a huge amount of money to play at the bar on New Year's Eve, and despite her protests, Indigo had insisted she took it. She rushed home from the set as soon as she could, making it in at half eleven into Indigo's waiting arms. They'd bought a bottle of champagne especially for the occasion, and Indigo had promised she'd nap earlier so she'd be awake for their first New Year's Eve together.
She quietly walked into the bedroom, finding Indigo sat up in bed, looking out of the window over the street.
"Hey," she murmured, slipping under the blankets with her, "How're you feeling?"
"Still tired," Indigo murmured, "But I'm glad you're back."
"How long have we got until the countdown?"
"Half an hour."
Christine rested her head against Indigo's shoulder,
"I'm so grateful to have this night with you."
"I'm supposed to be the mushy one, Miss Perfect."
"I am though! I love being with you."
"I love being with you too," she said, "Are we gonna start our New Year's kiss now?"
"Absolutely," Christine leaned in, capturing her lips in her own.
"Happy New Year," Indigo whispered, "I love you, Chris."
"Happy New Year, baby," Christine whispered back, as though they had to be quiet, pulling back from their kiss and pointing out of the window, at the fireworks, "I love you."
January 5th, 1964
Not for the first time, Christine was up and ready to head to uni, when Indigo made it out of bed, hair messy and toothbrush hanging out of her mouth as she walked into the living room.
"Hey," Christine murmured, "Morning."
"Morning-" she said, "I'll be literally five minutes, promise!"
"Don't worry, you've got time," she chuckled, "Do you want breakfast before we go? I can make you some?"
"Yes, please," she headed back into the bathroom, smiling to herself.
"I thought you weren't in on Thursdays!" she called, grabbing some fruit and bread.
"Got a meeting on the yearly art show," she called back, "They want my stuff in the fine art section!"
"That's wonderful!" she called.
"Have they said anything to you about them cutting sculpture classes?"
