Grayson let out a small yawn and rolled his shoulders, wincing at how sore the muscle were. He'd spent several of the past nights carrying toolboxes and materials in and out of the haunted house, hunching over them to install them and decorate it to look identical to the blue-prints that the Hephaestus cabin had imagined up. It had been grueling work, but everything seemed to be worth it. On the opening night of Oktoberfest, campers went in bunches, holding hands, running through the woods in search of the haunted house. He'd even walked through it himself, and was surprised to find himself jump once or twice at the contraptions inside, despite knowing exactly where they all were. It seemed to be a hit, and something he was proud of. But now, his work was done, and he could relax.
He took a seat in an unfolded lawn chair situated across the bonfire from a single girl, letting out a soft grunt as he sprawled out his legs and laid back. He stared at the golden flames and watched them lick at the night sky, cracking and popping as it took in energy from its kindling. The light illuminated his russet eyes, igniting the flecks of red and orange around his pupils. He breathed softly, sliding his hands to fold over his chest.
While his gaze was primarily focused on the bonfire itself, he couldn't help but think that the girl across from it looked vaguely familiar. She had wavy, dark brown hair with wispy bangs obscuring her eyes, which were devastatingly blue. She had soft, creamy-looking skin and tender pink lips. While Grayson couldn't quite put a finger on where he's seen the girl before, he couldn't help but notice the fluttering of his heart, which tended to happen when he saw a pretty girl. And she certainly was cute. Maybe he'd seen her in the mess hall or something.
It didn't much matter, though. Because Grayson wasn't really a social person. He hardly had any friends, and a girlfriend was completely out of the question. He was good with machinery. Machinery didn't mind his calloused fingers and it didn't cry when he said something mean about it. Machinery didn't mind if Grayson had awkward tendencies. Machinery had no soul or emotion, so Grayson felt comfortable. Machinery couldn't judge. But pretty girls? They definitely could. And with his sharp tongue and dreary mind, Grayson wasn't generally judged positively. Above all, he certainly wasn't a ladies man.
He cast his eyes to the ground, where a small ant tried to crawl through the grass. It stopped as his fit, a clear obstacle in its path, and twitched its antennae. Grayson analysed curiously. The easiest thing to do would be to find the boundaries of the obstacle, and simply walk around it. But instead, the ant moved forward, scaling up and over his shoe. The ant seemed to have trouble, and fell once or twice, but it got up and tried again, eventually clambering down the other side, and continuing on its way. Interesting, instead of going the easy way, the creature decided to exert more effort and tank over its barrier. He shifted his foot, hovering over the ant, before stepping down and grinding it into the grass. Stupid bug.