Willow lay with his arms around Eden. He sensed that if he said anything, did anything, she would pull away and that was the last thing he wanted. So, he stayed quiet and stared around at her apartment. He’d suspected she was messy, but this was next level. Stacks of old magazines, empty boxes, crushed cans, and loose paper. It looked like a teenage boy had been left home alone while his parents went to Canada. How pissed off would she be if he started cramming shit into plastic bags and throwing them out the window?

The song playing through Eden’s speakers ended and a track from her first mixtape, Middle-Sweet, played. Willow kissed her collarbone. “Nice music.”

Eden paused, then scrunched her nose. “Oh fuck, that’s so obnoxious.”

She moved, probably to get up and change it, but Willow held her close. “Don’t. I love your music.”

He kissed her cheek. “You were amazing.”

Eden shook her head and his insides knotted. There was something strange about her tonight. Something she wasn’t telling him. But if she was over their relationship, he couldn’t hear it right now. He shifted her onto his hip and pointed at her kitchen counter, weighed down with dirty cups and plates and more boxes. “Quick question, can I clean your apartment?”

“You want to clean my apartment?”

“Like… so badly it’s freaking me out.”

“Huh. Would you say you want to clean it more or less than you want me to eat vegetables?”

Willow hesitated. He looked down at the floor which was caked with mud, loose hairs, and glitter. “Can I vacuum? Please?”

“I mean, my first question would be, ‘how?’”

Willow gaped at her. “You don’t have a vacuum?”

“I’m not forty.”

He groaned. “No, but you are a nightmare. Like, the sexiest, most talented girl in the world, but such a nightmare.”

She scowled. “You don’t need to baby me. I can take care of myself.”

“Sure, you can. That’s why you’re making compost on your living room floor.”

“You don’t know me.”

Eden sounded like a nine-year-old who didn’t want to go to bed. He smiled at her. “Okay, pretty girl.”

“Don’t patronise me!”

“I can’t help it, you’re too fucking cute. Now can I please buy you a vacuum?”

She shoved his chest light. “You want to fix me.”

He frowned. “You don’t need fixing. You just need a lot less garbage in your house.”

Eden didn’t smile. She rolled off his knees and settled, naked except for her stockings, beside him on the couch. “You think you can make me nice like you, but you can’t.”

“You don’t think you’re nice?”

She shook her head. “I’m polite. I can put on a good show. But I’m not nice the way you are.”