The house was quiant and small, not what I am use to but its [erfect for a couple just starting out and meeting. That was a funny thought, one that made my mind wonder to all the conversations my father and i had about me comming to live here. They seem like they happened so long ago. I let a sigh slip over my lips before I heard the voice I had been waiting for. "Chris?" it called me, no... she called me. I hesitantly took a step in but stopped and cupped a hand over my mouth making sure my breath didn't smell bad. It smelled of mint flavored gum, good. I smoothed my collared shirt and ran my fingers through my hair hoping it looked ok. I heard her speak again.<br/><br/>My eyes stayed on her as she walked to me, she was as adorable as I imagined she would be. I stumbled a bit thrown off when she pulled me in, closed the door, and leaned on the wall. For a moment I didn't know if I could handle this... what is father had been right? What am I to do now? What if she doesn't like the real me? Who is a real me? The me that my father raised, or...<br/><br/>The me she fell in love with.<br/><br/>I smiled keeping my face calm not to show all that was going through my mind. I didn't want her bothered besides I was prob just nervous. So I smiled and spoke normally. "Do you have anything you want me to bring in? " I asked looking around at the blanket canvas we now had to fill with our memories. I couldn't help but smile. And mess with my glasses, out of nervous habbit.