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Quackity couldn’t believe it. He was in love with a slime. He hated how his heart would throb whenever the goopy being was near. Hiding his admiration with hatred. It didn’t make him feel good, but it was better than confronting his feelings. He fiddled with a coin. Sweat dripping down his forehead from the stress. A soft creak brought forth his awareness. “Quackity of Las Nevadas?”
The soft voice. Oh god the sweet melody. He dropped the golden relic. He cursed his heart for pounding oh so loudly. “Charlie.” He could vomit. He felt so warm. “Are you busy?” Quackity was pissed. Why did a slime of all things make him feel faint? “Not at all. Do you need something?” The rage boiled within him. Wet steps approached his desk. “I have a request?” adjusting his beanie he looked at what created all his problems.
“What is it?” Quackity wanted to punch Charlie, or kiss him stupid. Anything to ease the uncontrollable butterflies that fluttered in his stomach. “Can I borrow some money?” It was frightening. Charlie had both his palms on the birch desk. Leaning forward. Eyes begging, knowing they’d win. “Why?” Charlie didn’t have to answer, Quackity was already reaching for his wallet. “I wanna use the gambling machine. I’m bored.”
Having a hint of self control left he raised an eyebrow. Hand still holding the broken and worn out wallet. “Why would I let you gamble? That isn’t a good habit.” Charlie pouted. Bottom lip quivering, eyes threatening to spill gooey tears. “Please? I have nothing better to do.” A shiver ran down the duck hybrids' spine. He knows by now that Charlie is fully aware of what he’s doing.
“Stop it. You aren’t getting my money.” Quackity wishes he could stop the tingly sensation. He needed an anchor to hold him to the ground. “What if I work for it?” The hopeful smile was deathly adorable. It needed to be forced off the naive slimes face. “Sorry Charlie, my answer remains.” Quackity didn’t wanna let this opportunity go, but he knew self control. The angry scowl hurt him.
“Fine. Be that way.” With a scoff Charlie turned away. A part of Quackity wanted to beg him to stay. The other was saying good riddance. Quackity just sat. Letting his brain and heart battle it out. Observing as Charlie left and slammed the door. Once Quackity confirmed he was gone he bit himself. Hard enough to draw blood. Scolding his stupidity. Why hadn’t he shot his shot? Why was he such a dumbass? The questions poked at his mind as he grabbed the long forgotten gold coin. Playing with it as Charlie came back to his thoughts.