The Restoration of Estwick House - Completed.

Fifteen

"I don't see what the issue is with me just doing this myself."

"Because you've done so much already with barely any help, you deserve the break."

"It's my house, I should be putting the most work in."

"And you are. Now you've just got an extra pair of hands to help."

"I don't need the extra hands."

"Do you want them?"

"No." He shrugged, lifting me up onto the counter he'd apparently finished in the 5 minutes I'd spent adventuring.

"Then you'll just have to learn to take it anyway won't you?"

"No." He smiled. "Stop smiling like that."

"Why?"

"Because you're an idiot. I just want to sand it down myself."

"And what would happen if you accepted some help on this?" He looked at me sideways, still sanding away. "Would it kill you?"

"Might do."

"You've always been stubborn but I feel like this is taking it to another level."

"I'm cold now. It's your fault." He turned the sander off, putting it down and turning to me.

"How's it my fault?"

"If you hadn't kicked me out then I wouldn't have needed to break in."

"If you'd have given it up in the first place I wouldn't have needed to kick you out." He turned, flicking the kettle on before stepping across to the dryer on the other side of the room. He shifted through it, pulling something out and turning back. "Arms up."

"Not a chance in hell." He rolled his eyes, unclipping my dungarees before I could mutter another word.

"Fine, I'll do it."

"You are not seeing me in my underwear. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"I've seen you in less Harper. You're going to get sick."

"No, I'm not." He was already pulling my arms out of my jumper.

"I'd tell you to go change but we both know you'd throw a strop about that too." On the floor. My top was on the floor and my god was I thankful I'd gone with a sports bra this morning. Imagine my embarrassment sitting on a counter, ringing wet through in a lace bralette whilst my ex stood by my legs. I was making this way too easy for him. Barely putting up a fight. He pulled the dry jumper onto my arms, yanking it over my head and pulling the hood up. "Right, jeans off."

"Excuse me."

"Take your pants off." I scoffed. "Oh my god, I'm not trying anything, I can't get you warm if you're wearing wet clothes can I? Its only you and me here and you're not exactly in the mental space to be starting anything Harper. I just want you to not get sick." I crossed my arms over my chest and he groaned. I'm not in the mental space. What did that mean? If I was in this apparent 'mental space' to start something, are you telling me that's what he would be looking for? I barely considered him a friend. "2 options, do it yourself or I'll take them off for you. Those are the only 2."

"Or I could sit here happily."

"You are not sitting here in wet pants. It's me that will be looking after you when you're sick."

"I'm a big girl, I can look after myself. I've done it before."

"Mhm. Like you've sanded before."

"I have."