- Messages
- 108
- OOC First Name
- Jess S
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Interested in Somebody
- Sexual Orientation
- Who Cares?
- Wand
- Knotted 15 Inch Sturdy Spruce Wand with Kelpie Hair Core
- Age
- 3/4/2027 (34)
Avery wasn't sure how he'd gotten to this point. He'd moved to New Zealand, sworn off personal relationships, thrown himself into his work and to sleeping around. Yet somehow here he was, flipping a house with Isaiah Jeffreys by his side. A handsome, strong, kind man that seemed to have taken on the task of demolishing all of Avery's walls that he'd built around himself and started remodeling Averys heart. Somehow or the other, he was here, with this wonder of a man, and he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Couldn't imagine leaving this house, leaving Isaiah's side, couldn't imagine not having Isaiah in his bed every night or at his dinner table.
The house itself was making leaps and bounds- the foundations had all been laid, and they'd been going from room to room to room, decorating and filling it to be lived in. Avery knew they would only be here for another week, maybe, but he didn't want to leave. A little piece of him wanted to stay, to make this a home. He was feeling a little antsy. Sitting in the now furnished living room, he had his plans for the last few rooms of the house- bathrooms, kitchen, office, and master bedroom- and he was sketching furiously. A small pile of rejected plans already lay crumbled across the room. Groaning, Avery ripped out another page, adding it to the growing pile before leaning his head back against the couch, dragging his hands over his face.
The house itself was making leaps and bounds- the foundations had all been laid, and they'd been going from room to room to room, decorating and filling it to be lived in. Avery knew they would only be here for another week, maybe, but he didn't want to leave. A little piece of him wanted to stay, to make this a home. He was feeling a little antsy. Sitting in the now furnished living room, he had his plans for the last few rooms of the house- bathrooms, kitchen, office, and master bedroom- and he was sketching furiously. A small pile of rejected plans already lay crumbled across the room. Groaning, Avery ripped out another page, adding it to the growing pile before leaning his head back against the couch, dragging his hands over his face.