Chapter Sixteen - Not-so-Normal Life

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Rising from underneath the duvets, you glance around the room. Practically plain and empty, except the clothes scattered around the floor, and the bed you built yesterday. You groan, not remembering anything from last night. You slide out of bed, just a hoodie covering your torso. Waddling out of the room, you can hear movement in the kitchen downstairs. You follow the sound, stepping down each stair carefully. Reaching the bottom, you slide through the kitchen doorway.

"Good Morning, Y/N!" He chirps, a grin on his face. He only had a pair of jogging bottoms and a plain t-shirt on, and he had a frying pan in his hand. You waddle over to him, and you lean against him, "I'm tired," you grumble, smudging your face into his chest. He places the pan down before pulling you into a hug, "I can tell, have a seat. I've made pancakes." He whispers, a grin on his face. You slowly pull away after a couple of seconds, sliding adjusting yourself into the chair at the dining table. It was a fold out one, with two fold out chairs, as you hadn't built his actual one yet. You watch his movement, flipping the batter, sliding it onto a stack already formed. He picks a couple pancakes up from the stack, plops them onto a plate and places them in front of you. "What do you like with your pancakes?"
"Just sugar," you mutter, feeling like you're going to pass out at any second. He does a full 360, before placing a tub down in front of you. It had brown sugar in, about three quarters full. A spoon was delicately balanced on top, which you grabbed, and scooped onto your pancake.

You had finished the couple on your plate by now, with Chris sat opposite doing the exact same. You felt full, they were thicker than the usual ones. He glances up at you with a grin, "I hope they were okay,"
"They were great, thank you, Chris," you remark, rising and taking your plate to the sink. Rotating, you glance back at Chris, who was watching you in awe. You give him a slight smile, before sitting back down opposite him.

"Are you up for more setting shit up?" He asks gently, grinning. You inspect his grin from a distance, before responding "Oh, yeah, sure. Are you streaming tonight?"
"I might have to, is that okay? That's only if we set it up with enough time,"
"That's fine, I don't mind. You need to get back to your job," you smile slightly, attempting to hide the fear in your voice. You're terrified, you're basically gonna be alone while he's streaming, and it's a new house. You sigh, he doesn't notice, as he's getting up to wash both plates up. "What's the first job, then?" You chirp, grabbing one last pancake to munch on. Chris chuckles, reaching for the last one before returning the plate, "We should finish the bedroom, " he takes a bite, "then the proper dining table. If we have the time, we can finish the day off with my room, but no worries if we don't manage to."

You lower yourself onto the side of the bed, panting. You had been moving a wardrobe and a dressing table into the bedroom, and you were packing clothes away but the late June heat had finally gotten to you both. The ceiling fan was whizzing around above you both, trying to cool the room down. Either way, the job was complete, and it was only 10:57am. Standing up slowly, you collect all the clothes scattered around the floor and dump them all into one washing basket ready to take down. You feel a hand place itsself onto your arm with the washing basket in. "I can take this, go get yourself a drink," he smiles at you, preparing his arms to carry it. "No, I can carry it, it's fine," you comment back, keeping it between your two palms.

Stepping down each step with care, you reach the bottom of the stairs, and you take the basket into a large cupboard. A washing machine and a clothes dryer were positioned next to eachother opposite the door, with a set of shelves drilled into the wall above - all sorts of liquids and powders dotted along each one. He must of set these here yesterday. You place the basket down, planning to sort it later. Leaving the room, you enter the kitchen once more. You grab a glass before pouring yourself out a drink; you glance over at the unbuilt dining table that's against the wall. Your next job, and its gonna be a tough one.

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