Tackled by You

Chapter 45 – Boxes, Bruises, and Burnt Toast

Moving day started with two things: excitement and chaos.

Andrea had tied her hair in the messiest ponytail known to man, wearing a shirt three sizes too big and shorts that had seen better days. Sheik, already sweating before 10 a.m., was dragging a suspiciously heavy box labeled "Definitely Not All Books" up three flights of stairs.

"You said this was kitchen stuff!" he wheezed.

Andrea peeked over the box she was carrying — a much smaller one, of course. "Well, kitchen books count, don't they?"

Mochi barked from the bottom of the stairs, as if cheering them on.

The apartment, once quiet and pristine, was quickly overrun by cardboard chaos. Half-unpacked boxes sat in corners, pillows were mismatched, and the WiFi hadn't been set up yet — a modern tragedy.

But despite the mess, the laughter didn't stop.

At one point, Sheik got stuck in the doorway carrying their thrifted couch. Andrea tried to help by "guiding" him from the front, but it ended with both of them collapsed on the floor, breathless from laughing.

"Is this what domestic bliss looks like?" Sheik groaned.

"Absolutely," Andrea grinned, lying beside him. "And tomorrow, we build IKEA furniture. That's when the real relationship test begins."

They attempted their first meal together in their new kitchen: eggs and toast. The eggs were fine. The toast? Charcoal.

Andrea waved the smoking piece in the air. "This is your fault."

"My fault?" Sheik sputtered. "You said five minutes!"

"I meant five real-world minutes, not football halftime minutes!"

Eventually, they gave up and ordered takeout. They ate cross-legged on the floor, with Mochi snuggled between them and a single lamp lighting the room.

"I love this," Andrea said softly.

Sheik looked around at the mess, then at her. "Even with burnt toast and unpacked boxes?"

"Especially because of that," she replied. "It's ours."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Here's to every ordinary day ahead."

And as the night settled in and the apartment quieted, the two of them sat in their imperfect space, perfectly content — knowing that the real magic wasn't in how things looked.

It was in who they were building it with.