As very—not—responsible adults, both you and Steve had jobs. You worked at the local bakery, and he was at Family Video. It wasn't the dream, but it was enough for you two to have some savings.

Enough to move together.

See, none of you had a fun time at your parents' houses. You were either at some friends', or waited until the Harringtons were out of town to stay at his place.

You were old enough to live on your own, and your relationship was pretty stable. Some people tried to scare you off warning you about how living together would stress the shit out of each other, but you weren't worried. He was the only person that could keep you sane, and viceversa. You were going to be fine together.

Today you were visiting some houses on sale, pretty cheap ones but that didn't look terrible so far. You didn't need something enormous and extravagant anyways.