All We Have Is Now

trois

( a / n: i kinda hate this chapter and i couldn't be bothered to edit it properly.....apologies. better chapters are coming i guess! )

trois // amelia

♡

"So, what do you think?"

My father's chestnut eyes are filled with hopeful expectancy as he gestures around the new apartment, a building I've never visited prior to this day but will now be living in. Our new home.

I let my gaze drift around the master bedroom, which is the size of our box room back in Ealing. Somehow Dad managed to fit the majority of my parents' possessions into the compact room, although their furniture looks out of place here. Like a celebrity impersonator; the same, but different.

The rest of apartment feels the same as the master bedroom; stuffed with our possessions that don't quite fit. I feel suffocated by the walls which are too close together, the herringbone floorboards, the brass door handles. I knew that it would take some time to adjust from our humble three-bedroom house in Ealing to a two-bed apartment in Paris, but now that I'm here I feel that I will never become accustomed to the scale of the downgrade. The apartment looked much bigger in the pictures.

It isn't bad, just small. The kitchen is slotted into a corner; three small walls of black granite worktops and white laminate cabinets, featuring a vintage basin sink. The same scheme is also replicated in the compact bathroom, which has a disappointing lack of a bathtub. The living room leads on from the kitchen - separated by a small dining table – and is complete with white walls and high ceilings, a marble fireplace and ornate panelling. We can barely fit our TV, a small coffee table and a sofa into it, but the rest of the space is elegant and classic. My bedroom is the smallest room of them all; long and narrow, with white-washed walls and a floor-to-ceiling window. There is only enough space for a single bed, a minute desk and an in-built cupboard which acts as my wardrobe.

Despite the claustrophobic size of the apartment, I can't find it within me to hate it. I've been so against the idea of moving to Paris that I didn't even consider the prospect that I might actually like it here. But somehow, I've been swept away by the apartment's charm, enchanted by the traditional Parisian interior, awed with the chic aesthetic.

But it doesn't still feel like home.

"It's alright," I say, finally answering my father's question. "A bit small."

Dad sighs. "Amy, you knew it was going to be a bit of a downsize."

"I can't even fit a decent sized desk in my room. How am I supposed to study?"

"This was the most space we could get within our price range," Dad reasons. "You can always go to the library to study."

"But, I don't know where the nearest library is yet. Or how to get a library card. Do you even need those in France?"

"Amy, I think you're being difficult on purpose," he sighs again. "Let's look on the bright side. We've got a lovely home, don't we? I picked an apartment in the suburbs so it would be a little cheaper and quieter."

"And so that we have to commute even further into work and university."

"Amelia," Dad intones. Lines are etched on his forehead, and he rubs them with his hand before fluffing up his short mousey brown hair.

"Anyone want some coffee?" Mum asks, breezing into the master bedroom. "I've finally figured out how to work the new coffee machine."

"I'd love a cup, darling," Dad smiles.