charlotte-roberson:
Charlotte simply shrugged at the response, waving away his doubts. “Bold isn’t always best. Sometimes it’s best to do what we’re told– I have to do it myself plenty. You think I like doing those stark white minimalist kitchens? Making homes that feel more like museums?” She shuddered to show just how much she didn’t enjoy those projects. But it was the price of building your brand. Someday she might be able to give those projects to other designers because people would seek her out specifically for her bolder designs. “I think I’d love your living room. It sounds like the living room of a real home. No museum feeling at all, I bet.“ Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and pulled down the blue rug he’d helped her choose so she could buy it for her clients. “The decision making isn’t the hardest part of it, really. I don’t know if I always wanted to do it but I was always interested in creative things and home shows on TV when I was younger. I just happened to get to major in it in college and it makes a decent living in the right place. Did you always want to do what you do? Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you about this. Is it really what you want to be doing now?”
“But it makes my life so much easier when they’re like that,” Noah groaned, his mouth twitching up at the corner. Those stark white minimalist kitchens were a piece of cake to put together and set up, but he had to admit that Charlotte’s more personal, creative ones definitely looked better. It was actually the creative ones that he loved to do, the ones he could immerse himself into for a while so that there was no room for anything else in his head. He chuckled at her shudder. “I can imagine you feel like caged animal with those stark ones, though. Wanting to fly free and design to your heart’s content.” His mom had definitely flown free when she designed their living room, although, it was more of an ongoing project, something that was constantly added to and changed. Charlie lifted up to help the girl to grab the rug, pulling it down with her. “Not a stark white museum but it is like a museum of our family life,” Charlie admitted, “magnets from family holidays. Pictures of us from years ago, ornaments and sentimental stuff my mom collected during her travels and college times. School photos of me and E-” his expression dulled as the recognition dawned on him. “Er - yeah, you could find out my whole family history from that room.”
Happy for the subject change, Charlie nodded along as Charlotte spoke, listening intently as to avoid the thoughts that were now clouding his mind. “Sounds like you’re in the perfect job for you, C. People put a lot of trust in you and you’ve earned your rep through working hard.” When Charlotte asked him the question in return, Charlie found himself wondering what the real answer was. Did he want to be running his business the way things were now? Would he like to do something else? Would what he wanted to do pay the bills? That one was a no. Was work his only escape? Was even admitting he needed an escape awful? That felt like a hard yes. “I love what I do,” he told Charlotte, “I love making things and doing things for people and seeing their faces when a job’s done and knowing I did it the best I could. Probably a bit like you. I guess DIY and handy-work has always just been my path. I’ve got dyslexia so that kinda’ stuff is what I excel at really. I dread anything else. Sounds stupid but, yeah.”