In 'normality', I wouldn't fathom moving in with a boyfriend until at least six months in but without a definitive isolation end date in sight, I took the plunge and asked Tom to move in with me and my best friend.
I've always lived by the motto 'YOLO' and thankfully he were up for it. He lives on his own so I'm pretty sure the prospect of company, home-cooked meals and, let's face it, 'intimacy' on tap, were tempting enough for him to throw caution into the wind.He's moved his things into a corner in my room and has set up his desk in here, too.
He joins us for meals and it's honestly the highlight of my day; because our romance is so fresh, we're still in the cringey 'flirty' phase and it's all so new and exciting - a welcome distraction from reading the news.about each other, and whilst he slurps his tea and eats with his mouth open , his pasta making skills, respect for my borderline OCD cleanliness and optimistic demeanour more than make up for his table manners.
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