Oh, how I've tried to get you out of my head
And I lie broken in words I said
And I lie broken in words I said
Liam didn't notice the box of personal items at first, mentally debating which drawer to place a set of knives in. The kitchen was nearly done, the process made all the faster by Phoebe's help, and it was with a strange sort of gratitude that he decided on a drawer and turned back to her. He'd been anticipating having to do all of this himself, so to have help, and from such a lovely-seeming person - and his potential future leader, at that - was a pleasant surprise.
"Then I would be happy to serve," he said with a nod. That decided, his gaze finally landed on the box that had given Phoebe pause. It held clothing, weapons, and armor, and he frowned at it. "Must have been mislabeled," he said. Or perhaps the movers had simply misplaced it. "I'll take that one, and we can move on to the living area?" With that, he took the box and carried it into his bedroom to sort through later. Not that there was anything that he had to hide, precisely, but he wasn't sure he was ready to share his personal effects with someone he barely knew.
Returning to the living room, he took in the boxes stacked on the side of the room. The furniture was in more or less the right places: a comfortable couch across from two chairs, a coffee table in between; a lamp sitting between the chairs on a small side table; a few plants for decoration. All in all, there was little to do with the space other than to unpack a few boxes of decor. The first box that Liam picked up held various knick knacks that he'd collected over the years, some of which belonged to his late wife or children. He opened it carefully and began to pull out various items.
Whichever box Phoebe chose would hold pictures. There were some of him as a Dragoon, finishing his training; a few of Stormbreak or other notable locations; and one family portrait, the only one that he had left.
"Then I would be happy to serve," he said with a nod. That decided, his gaze finally landed on the box that had given Phoebe pause. It held clothing, weapons, and armor, and he frowned at it. "Must have been mislabeled," he said. Or perhaps the movers had simply misplaced it. "I'll take that one, and we can move on to the living area?" With that, he took the box and carried it into his bedroom to sort through later. Not that there was anything that he had to hide, precisely, but he wasn't sure he was ready to share his personal effects with someone he barely knew.
Returning to the living room, he took in the boxes stacked on the side of the room. The furniture was in more or less the right places: a comfortable couch across from two chairs, a coffee table in between; a lamp sitting between the chairs on a small side table; a few plants for decoration. All in all, there was little to do with the space other than to unpack a few boxes of decor. The first box that Liam picked up held various knick knacks that he'd collected over the years, some of which belonged to his late wife or children. He opened it carefully and began to pull out various items.
Whichever box Phoebe chose would hold pictures. There were some of him as a Dragoon, finishing his training; a few of Stormbreak or other notable locations; and one family portrait, the only one that he had left.
Never thought I'd walk on this street again
Standing where it all began
Standing where it all began
Liam
