Moving in took three weekends and one very long Tuesday.
Not because he had a lot of things. He didn't. Years of temp contracts and shared living had refined his possessions down to what actually mattered — books, specific kitchen items Juno had solemnly informed him he was allowed to take, the notebooks, clothes, the photograph of his parents from before everything.
It took three weekends because every time he brought a box, he stood in the penthouse and looked at where it would go and had a conversation with Caelan about it that was both practical and not entirely practical.
The books went in the second bedroom that was becoming a study.
The kitchen items went in the kitchen where Caelan had cleared two shelves without being asked.
The notebooks went on the desk that appeared in the study one morning between Friday and Monday without comment.
The photograph went on the mantle in the main room.
He put it there himself.
Caelan saw it and said nothing.
