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06. | ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ
☆★⋆｡°✩☾★ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✧˖°
𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢 | 𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟸
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑. He set his shopping bag near the door and slipped off his shoes to locate the sound. As he approached Y/N's room near the end of the hallway, the sounds of soft rock music filled the hallway.
He remembered that she was planning on painting her room today. The previous night, the two of them moved most of her stuff into the guest room, leaving Y/N's room bare enough for her to paint comfortably.
The door was half open, and he peered inside, not wanting to make any noise. He noticed Y/N on the other side of the room, her back facing him. She was humming to herself as she finished priming the wall, her roller in hand. He was quite impressed with how fast she worked. She had a ladder tucked in the corner to help her reach the high parts of the wall near the ceiling.
Mason knocked softly on the door frame, catching the girl's attention. Y/N turned around and smiled, seeing Mason standing in the doorframe.
"Hey!" Y/N beamingly placed the roller in the canister of paint. Her hair was pinned back out of her face, but a couple of strands made their way to the side of her face. She was wearing an old Fleetwood Mac shirt, which she claimed was her favorite band, while she wore a pair of black shorts.
"How's the painting going?" He asked, taking a step further into her bedroom. He looked down to see the entire floor covered with a blue tarp, while most of her furniture was pushed out of the way and covered in plastic. The windows were open, letting the fresh air inside dilute the pungent smell of paint. He knew that she took the day off at Cobham, wanting to work on her room.
"Good. I finished priming; I'm about to start painting now," she said, bending down and opening the paint canister that she and Mason picked out two days ago. She picked up a paint stick, twirling it around in the canister to properly mix the paint together.
"Sounds fun," he joked, placing his hands inside his pockets. She looked up at him and smiled. Y/N leaned the paint stick against the rim of the paint can. She brushed any paint on her hand onto the sides of the dirty trousers she was wearing.
"Are you doing anything?" She inquired, her hands on her hips. Mason shook his head, looking aimlessly around the room at her supplies.
"Do you want to help? I have another brush." She offered, holding up a spare paintbrush.
