Chapter Text
Stanley walked out of his office with pep in his step. Though he froze in his tracks when the usual dialogue was replaced with silence.
“My apologies, Stanley, I’ve simply been thinking that we should talk.”
Oh, great. Of course Stanley liked the creature with control issues.
“I’m serious, Stanley! All good relationships have superb communication between both parties.”
Stanley knew this. He groaned in response anyways.
“Fine, let’s start small.” The Narrator shuffled through papers. “How do you feel about pet names?”
A definite no-go.
“Even “dear”?”
A definite no-go with exceptions.
“Wonderful! And what about next time you reach the outside world, we could…well, I’m not sure yet but I was thinking of a picnic.”
Stanley would think about it.
“Oh, Stanley, this is exhilarating!” And Stanley smiled.
He was subconsciously moving, yet aware enough not to die. He heard the pause and strain in words when he turned through the wrong doors, smirking stupidly from habit.
“-and…now, where are you going, Stanley?” Stanley fell onto the raised platform. “No, no, Stanley, I don’t understand…” Stanley walked through the red door as The Narrator’s breath hitched. “Now, Stanley, if all of…that had just been some big gag you thought would be funny, it really isn’t. Is that your idea of fun?”
Stanley froze in his tracks. Was he that cruel? “That depends on your next moves.”
No, he found no fun in something like that. Stanley wanted to relax for once in the lights room. It seemed to be a shared interest of theirs, Stanley and The Narrator, though the latter found it much more tantalising. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like an infant’s play. Lights and buttons…
Say, The Narrator wanted Stanley to be happy, didn’t he? “What are you asking?” The Narrator should put Stanley in a room full of buttons and sounds. The Narrator chuckled softly. “I’ll think it over, Stanley.”
Stanley laid on his back, watching the light display as it started up, streaks of colour beginning to bounce around the space. Before long, sharp footsteps interrupted the peaceful silence of the room. Stanley didn’t bother looking, his body felt like it had melted to the floor, as if he became one with the ground as he finally experienced a thoughtless rest. He knew who would greet him, anyways. The Narrator mimicked Stanley on the ground, laying beside him, pulling Stanley’s hand to hold his own. They sat in silence for who knows long. It could’ve been months, years even. Maybe Stanley deserved a watch. Passing the thought, Stanley decided this would be the most domestic situation he’d get in this parable.
“This is the furthest thing from domestic, Stanley.”
Oh, give him a break.
“I’m just saying, if you want a “regular” relationship, we could just live endlessly in that apartment of yours with that wife.”
Stanley didn’t need a wife.
“Oh, I know, Stanley. You have me, now. I can be your wife.”
What? And The Narrator had the audacity to claim Stanley saw himself in old girly pop music.
“Yes, yes, whatever. You have to forgive me, Stanley. I’m not as sensitive to “gendered terms” as you mortals.” He paused. “Nevermind. I can’t really call you mortal now, can I?”
Stanley shrugged off the thought. He’d just have to marry The Narrator, is all.
“I-Isn’t it a bit too early for that? Yes, I presume we should at least wait a year. Though, with how time flies here, I’ll be making you a suit tomorrow.”
Sounded like a plan to Stanley.
“No, no, but it wouldn’t be perfect! Isn’t that something humans are obsessed with? Aren’t weddings supposed to be flawless?”
Stanley didn’t care for things like that. He enjoyed the thought of the title. “Stanley’s husband,” he repeated the thought.
“Oh, and there’s no one but us here, Stanley! Without guests, it’s not accurate to my studies!”
Of course The Narrator had researched something as diverse and vague as love. He was wrong, anyways. Stanley had heard two separate stories depicting two separate people. Living people.
“Alright, Stanley, let me clear that up. I have no idea how you got where you ended up in those two moments. You clearly weren’t supposed to be there. As for the research, yes, I did. I was overcome by being scared as hell and frolicking on cloud 9 all at once. I don’t know what else you expected from me.”
Stanley shrugged. Again, nothing. A comfortable silence.
“Stanley, dearest,” Stanley’s heart skipped a beat. “you know my thoughts on this room, but – and I’m not sure how this is possible – I’m feeling so much more. I almost feel as if I’ve reached a state of psychosis where I feel ecstatic to a sickening level. Am I insane, Stanley?”
Not anymore than Stanley was. The Narrator hummed. Suddenly, Stanley sat up, the blood crashing through the rest of his skull making him slightly light headed.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
Stanley was beginning to feel tired. If he slept here, he wouldn’t wake up for a century. It’d be the button all over again.
“Yes, I suppose that’s not…ideal.” A familiar mantra replayed in his mind. “Alright, I bid you farewell for the next two minutes, Stanley.”
Stanley stood with The Narrator. “Oh, and…a little gift, dear.”
The Narrator gave the office worker a quick peck on the lips. “I love you, Stanley.” In the next second, he vanished right in front of Stanley’s face.
Now, Stanley had a full two minutes to think of his response.