Work Text:
The workshop was Lizzie’s favorite place in the world.
It was a large room- originally a barn outside the house she shared with Ren. it was split into two sides, separated by a low wall. That way they each had their own space, but they could still talk to each other and share ideas.
Lizzie’s side was perpetually covered in sawdust. She was a carpenter- half the furniture in their house and everything in the workshop were things she’d made herself. She especially loved carving, turning a blank piece of wood into something real and alive. She’d hung a lot of her carvings, and a few of her paintings, on the walls of the workshop. She had her desk pressed up against the low wall, right across from Ren’s, and she had all her chisels there. She had all her favorite tools on a wall rack, with the others in her toolbox. She had a few tables behind her desk with all her bigger tools, and a shelf she’d built with all her unfinished pieces. She had most of her wood sorted in bins; there was also a pile of logs and sticks in one corner that she hadn’t sorted yet.
Lizzie liked to cut the trees she needed down herself. She had her beloved ax hanging by the door, and her favorite flannel had its own hook.
Her flannel had been made in the workshop, on Ren’s side. Ren was a textile artist. He did a lot of things- he sewed, he knitted, he crocheted, he embroidered, he cross-stitched, and he did a thousand other things. Most of the pillows and blankets and such in their house were things he’d made, not to mention all the things he’d made in their closets. He had some of his quilts and tapestries on his walls, hanging from hooks Lizzie had put up. She’d built him shelves for all his yarn and thread and fabrics, and he had a set of drawers dedicated to his patterns. He had his dress forms and bolts of fabric in the back. He had his sewing machine on his desk, and all his hooks and needles.
Between their desks, they had boxes with things like paper and pencils and such, that they would both need. And a coffee maker, of course.
Ren was out at the market, probably arguing with the honey salesman Lizzie had grown quite fond of. While he was gone, she worked on organizing the workshop. Normally she would never touch another artist’s things, but the two of them had been together so long that she knew exactly how he kept his things.
As she sorted all his yarn into the right shelves, she ran her fingers over her favorite thing she’d ever made. A few years ago, Ren had said that he wanted to start making his own thread, so Lizzie had made him his own spinning wheel. She loved watching him use it, the focus on his face as he spun his wool. She liked watching him while he worked, and she especially liked working with him.
When he came home from the market, they worked together to put everything away. Over the years, they’d become a well-oiled machine when it came to things like this. They talked as they went; Ren did, in fact, get into an argument with the honey salesman.
The only thing Lizzie liked more than working with Ren was not working with him. Collapsed on the couch, tangled up in each other, with their favorite movie on. Lizzie had it good. The best, even.
Though… they did need a new TV stand. Lizzie was already making plans in her head.