in which grian touches grass multiple times and it still doesn't help him
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Summary
Mumbo drops his hands from the ceiling to cross his arms petulantly. “In fact, why isn’t Scar taking up this job?”
Scar is, indeed, sitting very daintily on a plush chair that Grian hadn’t seen him drag in. “Don’t let me bother you!” he says, giving them a wide wave. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your learning!”
“I didn’t even want to be here,” Mumbo bemoans. “I’m not good at gardening, Grian, we both know it! I could be- I could be building a flying machine right now.”
He says that wistfully, and Grian takes one hand off of the dirt he’s pressing against the ground - ceiling - whatever, and sets it on Mumbo’s very white shirt. “Mumbo,” he says, with a gentle and caring tone. His friend looks up at him.
Mumbo’s dark eyes are practically voids in the dank man-made cavern, and dirt flecks have rubbed their ways onto his face like a smattering of stars.
“I’m only going to say this once,” Grian continues, and the shoulder underneath his hand relaxes. “Get good.”
Or: Grian has some grass issues. Mumbo and Scar try to help.
Series
- Part 1 of all goes outward and onward