CAPTURED BEAUTY (Peter Steele x Reader)

THREE: (You Are) Electrocute

The smell of old paint hadn't bothered your nose much anymore but the embarrassment of such quality of living did.

Peter had offered to help of course but you still couldn't help but feel nervous as if he would say something that would solidify the running thoughts in your mind.

You'd aimlessly clean around your small apartment as much as you could before his arrival. Your attire wasn't anything fancy this time around, figuring you were going to get a bit messy with the repairs. A simple set of work overalls and underneath, your f/c short sleeved t-shirt and whatever else that could save you from a chafing nightmare.

Whatever works.

Time seems to go immensely fast and after your aimless bouts of cleaning and somewhat organizing, a knock is heard from your door. You open it to find Peter on the other side, toolbox in one hand and around his waist a tool belt. The clothes he picked out for the day ahead looked to be meticulously picked out just for the job. Dark blue jeans, boots and surprisingly not a green t-shirt, but a white one.

''Hey. Sorry I was late, bunch of traffic.'' He says with a light apologetic expression. You notice his eyes set on you and you feel extremely small in this moment. You're not sure what to make of his assessment until a little smile curves his lips.

''Nice outfit.'' He compliments and you step aside to let him in. He ducks in your apartment and you shut the door behind him with a small click.

''Ah, thank you. I can say the same to you. You definitely look like the right guy for this kind of thing. That and. . .really prepared.'' You comment and he can't help but chuckle at that. His eyes already scan the problem areas of your apartment. Water damage, exposed electrical wires, poor insulation even. He looks at you again and you notice how his face slightly scrunched up.

"I'm surprised this building is still up, let alone lettin' anyone live in it. How much are you paying for rent, anyways?'' He asks while you see him slowly make his way to the middle of the living room, setting his tool box down on the coffee table and opening it up.

''About. . .three grand? A bit more than that I think.'' You answer and decide to move a few things around to make mobility a bit easier for the two of you.

He watches you for a moment, as if he was thinking pretty deeply about the situation.

''That's about average rent in Brooklyn. Still, it's bullshit. I pay the same but you shouldn't be paying the price for the lack of care they put into this place.'' He says almost valiantly.

The way he moves and organizes is so meticulous. You step over to him and take notice of all the things he has in his toolbox. Labeled bolts, screws, teeny tiny screwdrivers and even a wrench. It's like he has his whole life together in this box and belt around his waist.

''You have some major organization skills. It's like I'm looking in some mini hardware store.'' You smile and catch him looking at you.

Peter's eyes were so soft. They completely contrasted his overall presence, almost vulnerable. That vulnerability you caught a glimpse of had made his body visibly tense. His shoulders rolled that heaviness off and he turned away, pulling you out of that jaded forest green.

''Everything has a place and without it, you're bound to lose something. Best to keep organized so that way everything is easier to find. Though..'' He trails off and looks at you again, a childish grin flashing on his face. "Guess we all have a few loose screws.''

"Yeah, sure.'' You laugh and after your little moment with Peter, you begin to show him the areas that were definitely in need of fixing.

After all of the planning, you had just stuck to watching him clean and fix whatever needed to be taken care of.