The Transfer ✔️

Epilogue - Belonging

Chapter Song: Clean - Taylor Swift

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One of the most courageous decisions you'll ever make is to finally let go of what is hurting your heart and your soul - Brigitte Nicole

THREE YEARS LATER

His arms never seem to leave me. Hundreds of days have passed us and they never relent. It's as if we can't believe we're both here. Breathing, alive. Feeling the sun against our closed eyelids. The golden light causing me to slowly wake up. The sound of the city is quiet below us but I'm always aware of it. Cars honking, busses braking. People moving and achieving, talking and fighting. I still don't feel part of civilization and I doubt I ever will. That's okay though, because I feel part of him and that's all I'll ever really need.

I sigh and shuffle in his arms, turning to face him. His eyes are shut, lips slightly parted. Brown hair that can never be truly tamed lies messily across his forehead in its usual fashion. I run a hand through it and press my lips to his forehead.

"Leonardo," I whisper against his skin. "You need to wake up."

He grumbles and pulls me into him without opening his eyes. I'm secretly convinced he puts on this show to keep us in bed longer but I'll never call him out on it. I secretly love it. His body pressed against mine. Even the simple comfort of bedding still feels like a luxury. So many nights I slept in a sleeping bag, shivering because of the cold penetrating through it.

"Five more minutes, beautiful. There's no rush." He whispers, kissing the skin of my neck.

I squirm against him. Knowing where this leads, I try to repress my body's automatic reaction to him. It's a difficult task and not one I succeed in regularly.

"Time isn't stopping, Leo. We need to meet them in an hour." I smile, sitting up in bed. He latches a hand around my wrist and I fall back, besotted with the sleepy smile he casts my way.

"Time will stop. Let me make a few calls." He groans, rolling onto his stomach with my wrist still secured by his hand.

I pull it away and he huffs. Often, he forgets my strength and it's always fun to pull away or pin him down as a small reminder. Usually he gets back on top but who am I to complain? Control is something I've had to exercise for the majority of my life and sometimes, every so often, it's nice to let go of it.

I pad out of our bedroom in shorts and a t-shirt, my bare feet cold against the wooden floor. Our place is gorgeous. Open plan, wooden floors and sleek counters. There's lots of tonal colors so I've thrown in some pillows and unnecessary throws just to make it seem more homely – truthfully, Leonardo had more knowledge on it than I did. The fact that it is our home, however, still makes me grin.

I'm not surprised by its beauty however. Just after the war ended, Leonardo applied to an architecture firm. They took him on at a low level but he quickly worked his way up. Although he has no degree, he's being allowed to work with some of the main designers as he studies for one. It's a purpose for his every day and I'm happy he's found one – even if it means I have to admit that Construction was useful in the end.

Coffee has quickly become one of my guilty pleasure since arriving back to normality. I carry two cups over to our sofa, curling up with one of the blankets over me. Leonardo stretches as he comes out of the room, broad shoulders flexing as usual. I look away and focus on the TV screen as the red N comes up. Netflix, another guilty pleasure. Leonardo found it hilarious the first day he came back home to find me unmoving on the couch, the tenth episode of the day playing.