barricade boys imagines/one shots + preferences: volume one

grantaire; splatter art

Beige. White. Gray. Yellow.

These were the colours of paint that sat in their tin cans in front of Y/n. They were lined up against the wall of the room that desperately needed to be painted. But what colour?

She scratched her head and pictured what each colour would look like in the sun, and how well it could incorporate with her furniture.

Grantaire was at his usual meeting, leaving the duty to Y/n. She began to reach for the can of beige but then pulled her hand away, changing her mind for the forty-fifth time.

Y/n was a perfectionist. Everything had to be perfect or not at all. Grantaire says that the trait comes from her mother, but she refuses to believe it.

Back in her standing position, she squished her lips together in thought.

"I'm home!" A male voice, that Y/n instantly recognizes, calls.

From the entrance of the apartment, Grantaire throws his jacket onto the couch but then instantly picks it up and hangs it on the coat hanger, knowing that we would get lectured again about tidiness in the home. He walks through the apartment searching for Y/n and soon spots her at the end of the hall holding her lips between her fingers.

He looks down and enters the bland room.

"Hello my love." He says before kissing her cheek. She hums a response, her eyes never leaving the four cans of paint in front of her. Grantaire follows her gaze and frowns.

"Y/n, when I left two hours ago those paint cans were there. Why are they still here?"

She sighs and lets her hands drop by her sides. "I don't know what colour to pick! I mean what would the baby want?! Beige, yellow-"

Grantaire interrupts her rant before it can proceed by pulling her into his chest. He rubs a hand up and down her back soothingly as she clutches his shirt.

"I don't know..." She mumbles.

Y/n and Grantaire were expecting a child. They had recently found out from Joly after he had found her throwing up in the bathroom. Y/n's baby bump hasn't started to show yet, but her appetite and mood swings sure did.

She was currently whimpering into Grantaire's chest about the baby wanting to jump out of her arms and leave the apartment if she picked the wrong colour. Being the good husband Grantaire is, he didn't laugh. Out loud.

"Hey, hey" Grantaire pulls Y/n out of his embrace and holds her shoulders. "It's going to be alright. I promise, like I really promise that the baby will not jump out of your arms and strut out of here because he doesn't like your taste in colours. I promise. Now, let me help you decide, okay? We are going to do this together."

She nods as he wipes a falling tear from her cheek with his thumb. He smiles and turns to the paint cans.

"Alright" he claps his hands and rubs them together. "So we've got beige, white, gray, and yellow. Hmm... why don't we eliminate the colours we won't be needing, yeah?"

She shrugs and nods.

Grantaire sets himself down in front of the paint cans and scratches his head. "Why don't we get rid of the white?"

She furrows her eyebrows and sits beside him. "Why?"

"Well, considering the fact that stains will show a lot more with white, and that this child and myself are and will be very messy, we should discard of it."

Once again, she furrows her eyebrows and looks at the can of white paint. She smiles and turns to her husband.

"Okay."