Work Text:
“Ilya, wait.”
Ilya didn't wait. He continued through the house, hauling a step stool over his shoulder, bags of supplies in one hand and a paint can in the other.
Shane followed.
“Did you grab the tarps?” Ilya asked over his shoulder as he piled everything outside the spare bedroom.
“What do you think?”
“Painting this room was your idea.”
Ilya brushed past Shane and returned a moment later with the tarps. He began unfolding one.
“All I said was, 'The adoption papers cleared.'"
“The file said her favorite color is pink.”
Shane stared.
He picked up the other tarp.