Highschool Sweethearts (Jensen X Reader) - DISCONTINUED

Chapter 5: The Week Leading Up

The days following me signing the paperwork were uneventful. It was now four days since I signed, and I was slowly getting furniture into the apartment, since it only came with appliances, a TV, and the bed.

All I had to do for the laundry room was get a couple of baskets in there, as well as buying detergent. I bought maroon towels and washcloths for the master bathroom, and for the guest I bought dark grey towels. I knew I was going to have to wait for my toiletries to arrive from Texas, so in the meantime I used what I still had from flying here. As well as waiting for those to arrive, I have to wait for all my kitchen necessities to arrive, so I knew I was going to be ordering a few nights. I did get some granola bars for the mornings, and a case of water to have something to drink on hand.

The first room I furnished was the living room. I got a leather couch, a light wood coffee table, and matching end tables. On the back of the couch I got a warm grey blanket, as well as black and grey pillows to be on the couch. I also got black shelves under where the TV was already mounted. In one corner I put a shelving unit for my records to be stored in, and there was plenty of room to put the record player on top of the shelves. The room still seemed bare to me, but I knew time would fix that.

In my bedroom, I didn't know what to do. I bought some white sheets, and a heavy dark green comforter. I also decided to change the walls from the harsh white paint to a softer light grey. I got two dark wood bookshelves and put them on either side of the doorway to my closet. The closet was so big that I didn't need a dresser, so I had a lot of empty space in here. I got a simple bench and put it at the foot of the bed.

It's just going to take time, I reminded myself. You don't have to fully make this place feel like home. It's going to take awhile. It'll feel less empty when your stuff arrives.

Just as I finish that thought, I hear a knock at my door. I hurry over and look through the peephole. Seeing a delivery man, I open the door.

"Delivery for the Y/L/N residency," the delivery man says in a bored tone.

"Thank you," I say as I sign for the three boxes that are at my door.

He just walks away as I start to bring them into the apartment. Once I close the door again I look at their labels. The kitchen box came in, as well as the box from the living room that holds my old decorations. The final box is my books and under-the-bed boxes. Putting the boxes into their respective rooms, I begin to unpack. I start off with the kitchen. Placing all the dishes into cabinets calms me. Something normal finally in my new home, something to help it feel less alien to me. Putting the coffee pot on the counter, and my snack bowl on the island, I feel accomplished as I progress in getting settled yet again. I walk to the living room and the same. I place a candle on one end table, and my picture frames on the unit below the TV. I decide I'll put my movies away tomorrow, because I do not feel like alphabetizing them all right now.

The box I've been worrying over is all that's left to do today. With a heavy heart I walk back to the bedroom to unpack it. I take the shoeboxes and place them on the bed, deciding it's best if I handle those last. I take my books and begin to fill some of the bookshelves. I decide to put the books together by the series it is, and if it's just a single novel, I put it after the previous. I think back to how they were always alphabetized, but that doesn't matter with books.

Books hold stories that work together, so why not place them as such? I think to myself.

The shelves aren't full, but I'm out of books to fill them. Which brings me to what I've been dreading since I packed them, the shoeboxes. I give in on the desire to wallow in the memories held by them. Taking a deep breath to brace myself, I open the first box I made. 'High School' it reads. The first things my eyes land on are all four year books. All the years I attended JV Berkner High, held within these pages. I sniffle a little as I open one of them. It was my freshman year, and the picture is of the student section at one of the countless football games I'd gone to. I release a strangled chuckle as I see myself linked arm in arm with the first friend I'd made in high school, Melissa. It's been years since I'd seen her, and I know I have her on Instagram. It's mind boggling how someone who could mean so much to you at one point in life can barely be part of it later. I grab all four year books and put them on a shelf with all my other books. I shuffle through the box to see my graduation tassel, my class ring, and a transcript along with other papers.