wrong one//g.d

t w e n t y - o n e

(y/n pov)

"How's it going?" you asked, walking in. He turned, the cutter stopping. You smiled, leaning against the wall.

"You can't come into my workshop without goggles," he said with a smile. He handed you a pair as you laughed, slipping them on as you walked further into the little house.

"These remind me of science in highschool," you said, pushing them up your nose. He looked over at you as he carried a piece of wood to the saw electric saw to be cut.

"The goggles?"

"Yeah, like the ones we had to wear for chem," you said, remembering. "And bio too, I believe." He smiled.

"Well, safety first." You nodded, arms crossed as you picked up a piece od paper. "Blueprint," he told you.

"Fancy." He chuckled as you pointed at the counter. He nodded and you pushed yourself up.

"So what part's the actual desk?" you asked. He brushed off his hands and walked over. His pointer finger grazed over the paper as he showed you.

"This part's the top, and then," he took the papers from you to flip to another. You looked up at him as he pointed, eyes quickly drifting back to the page. "Here're the legs, they're gonna be like, inside in a square, kind of-- and, there's gonna be a shelf up top."

He flipped some more to show you the shelf. "Someone's excited," you said with a smile. He shrugged.

"It's exciting," he explained, heading back. "Right now I'm cutting up the wood for the legs-- and then it'll be two pieces each and then ill make the rectangle thing to screw them into." You smiled.

"Fun." He rolled his eyes. "I just don't see the joy in-- screwing wood together." He laughed, picking up the wood.

"You make it sound boring-- you have no hobby; I wouldn't be talking." You smiled.

"I have plenty of hobbies." You got off of the counter and stretched your legs. "Like taking naps-- which I will go do right now, in fact." He shook his head smiling.

"You have fun, y/n," You waved, fluttering your fingers as you headed back out of his little tiny home.

It was just as you were waking up from your afternoon nap that he was heading into your bedroom. You sat up, yawning as he headed to the bathroom. "All done?" you asked in a quiet voice. He turned and nodded, heading in.

"Yeah, just got a little booboo, that--"

"A what?" you aside, getting out of bed. He held up his hand, a bloody finger in your vision. You frowned, walking towards him. "Grayson," you sighed, as you both headed into the bathroom together.

"It's no big deal, a bandaid and I should be fine," he said with a smile.

"You have to clean it, stupid," you sighed as he rinsed his hand under the tap. "Where do you keep the first aid stuff?" He shrugged.

"Never had to use it." You rolled your eyes as you took a seat in front of the cabinets, trying to find what you needed. He waited patiently. "Thank you," he said with a smile as you came up with a bottle hydrogen peroxide to clean his cut with.

"You're welcome," you mumbled, dabbing his wound. "What's this from?"

"Well, first I had a splinter from the wood," he explained. You shook your head. "And then-- ah-- my radial arm saw thing wasn't listening to me."

"Grayson," you said, shaking your head. He winced as it stung a little and you wrapped a band-aid around his finger. He grinned.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. You nodded, closing up the bottle and putting the box of bandaids away. "You're not done," he pouted. You raised an eyebrow.