neither of them had to handle whatever state she came home in alone.
his attention drifted back toward the painting, brow lifting slightly as he studied it again. “this still needs to dry, right?” he asked, glancing back at her.
“sure,” gray agreed with an easy nod. “go shower or whatever. i'll swing by when she texts me to come get her.”
it was obvious maisie was worried, and if he was being honest, so was he. having another person around probably wasn't the worst idea. if nothing else, it meant —
“mhm?”
completely elsewhere, temporarily focused on diana and whatever is up with her—whether is it through her disagreement with diana, or the incident with wyatt. so when gray approaches, she barely registers gray approaching until his scent reaches her nose and forces—
he's not at work 24/7. they go to the gym together most days a week. besides... he's got a standing desk at work. standing in silence is easier to tolerate.
across the red smear, collecting some of the paint before gray seemed to register just how naturally he'd reached for her.
his hand lingered for half a beat. then he pulled it back, holding his thumb up between them as proof. “red,” he finished, mouth curling at one corner.
gray caught the streak of paint across her forehead the second her hands dropped away from her face, amusement flickering across his expression. “you've got...”
he closed the distance without really thinking about it, hand lifting on instinct. the pad of his thumb swept gently —
“ i mean, i don’t know her as much as you guys do, but yeah.. i just.. i worry a little. i don’t know.”
pressing her hand against her forehead in concern, temporarily forgetting that her fingers are still coated with pant, spreading red fingertips stains over her face.
he took the out without much resistance, giving a small nod as his attention shifted toward di.
“yeah,” he said, shoulders lifting in a loose shrug while his mouth pulled into a faint frown. “no fucking clue what's going on with her. she's always been a little tightly wound, —
her ears are warm. compliments about her appearance, she can handle. genuine compliments about her work, something so deeply personal and sensitive—as her family would attest— was a different story. she was happy to have felt the mere urge to paint about that place.
inspiration—
“figured i'd come bother you for a while,” gray said, lifting the beers in one hand like they were enough to justify showing up unannounced.
he stepped inside, but his attention snagged almost immediately on the papers spread across the coffee table and the open laptop sitting —
the knock on her door took her slightly off her guard, standing from her position hunched over her laptop. papers spread out across her little living room table, hair braided back messily. hurrying over to the door, she swung it open only to grin at the person that appeared . . .
between them. his mouth pulled faintly to one side. “am i interrupting?”
gray glanced back at her, already shifting the beers against his palm like he was prepared to make a retreat if she wanted him to. “i can come back later,” he offered easily. “these aren't gonna expire in —
@lucissolis proximity? who am i meant to talk to when everyone is silent? besides, i've got a deadline at work. figured i'd use the opportunity to lock in.