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Impulse watched Gem’s eyes sparkle as the factory filled the horizon. It wasn’t done - it was far from done in fact - but the childlike wonder that consumed her was enough for pride to bubble up in his stomach. It fizzed and mixed with something else, a different feeling that always seemed to creep up on him when he was around the young woman, and he bit his tongue to try and push it down. It worked, for a moment, until Gem let out a breathy laugh and whispered his name.
“Impulse--”
There it was again: taking his insides and shaking them around; tying them into knots that he could never hope to undo. It had been one word - people called his name dozens of times every day - but somehow when Gem said it everything was different. The world was a little bit brighter, his cheeks a little bit warmer.
A girl like her though - she could never want someone like him.
“Might as well get the full experience, huh?” He asked, his head turning to one side to watch as Gem stared high above. Even when she didn’t look at him - when she leaned back and craned her neck to see the tops of the smokestacks as they disappeared into the clouds - she was beautiful. He could tell that she was too absorbed taking everything in to provide a response, so Impulse took it upon himself to pick up and replace the book on the lectern before them. Below their feet, a few blocks underground, redstone came to life and noteblocks began to play a series of notes.
“Oh my gosh…” She whispered, her eyes somehow widening even further, and as she did Impulse noticed something small.
Gem had held out her hand.
Gem. Talented Gem. Funny Gem. Beautiful, strong, hard-working Gem. She had held her hand out toward him whilst marvelling at something he’d created.
It was large, that was true, and Impulse could understand how the building’s sheer scale could easily entrape the imagination of his peers, but Gem? Gem, who had created the most beautiful woodland village? Gem, who had built a palace fit for a Queen from scratch in the time it had taken him to make a factory?
That Gem had offered up her hand whilst staring at something that could never begin to compare to the wonders she’d brought to the world?
His right hand slowly moved towards hers, fingers outstretched, and he paused a moment before their skin could touch.
Her fingers were slender and long, they were soft and beautiful. They were the fingers of someone that worked with nature rather than against it, who focused on delicate details and ensuring that everything was just perfect. She took her time with everything she created and gave part of herself into everything she did. His own were nothing of the sort. They were short, portly, and covered in calluses. He could still see traces of redstone dust beneath his nails, and a decent amount of dirt seemed to have snuck under there too. There were hangnails, small cuts, and a plethora of other imperfections.
He couldn’t take her hand. No matter how much that realisation felt like he’d been punched in the gut, no matter how it made his eyes prick and sting, he knew it was true.
“Do you recognise that song?” He asked, his arm dropping. It felt cold - when had his factory felt so cold? Sure, the air conditioning, but he had his jacket on, and they were still outside.
“I do.” She said, and just as his hand had returned to his side, hers now returned to her side. If Impulse didn’t know any better he would have said that her tone had a hint of sadness to it, but he did know better. She couldn’t be sad that he hadn’t taken her hand, because it couldn’t have been offered to him. He must have just misunderstood. “I recognise it, but I don’t know it.”
“Well,” he began, stepping forward toward the factory entrance. That was what she was here for, and it would help to quell that awful feeling inside of him. “Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination!”
Why had he sung? Why had he tried to sing? Void, his voice was awful, it cracked on the notes it did hit and sounded painfully shrill on those that didn’t. Gem didn’t need to hear that, not when he was sure her own voice would be like a thousand angels came together to sing to the sky above, but he forced himself to laugh. He could laugh now, he would berate himself later.
“I’m not the best singer.” He said, glancing back over his shoulder to see Gem still following him - still focused firmly on the factory itself - and he wondered if that meant she’d managed to avoid properly hearing him. “Come on in.”
“It was perfect.” Gem said absent-mindedly, and Impulse couldn’t help the second laugh that came from him then. Clearly she wasn’t listening to him, not if she thought he’d sang perfectly, and that was alright. Why would Gem listen to him? She was elegant, petite, perfect - he was the opposite.
“So, we just have to go into the shrinking door.” He continued, trying to put what he’d done behind him (both physically and metaphorically) as he took long strides through the entrance to the factory. It felt barren and empty, it felt like any life that had previously been there had been sucked out. It was soulless. Gem had a way of bringing her builds to life, he had just made a white box with a couple of lights here and there. He swallowed, the feeling in his chest beginning to spread through his entire being. This was why he was asking Gem for a tree though, wasn’t it? She could work magic with her fingertips, maybe it would rub off on his own build. Just slightly.
“This is my candy garden.” He announced as they crossed the threshold, gritting his teeth as he looked at the incomplete landscape before him. She had to be underwhelmed, she had to be disappointed, she had to--
“Woah!” She exclaimed, and despite the crushing feeling surging through him his heart fluttered once more at her reaction.
“It’s coming along, I’ve got a lot more detail I need to put in here…” He began, and Impulse watched as she skipped off over the mossy hills to examine the small features he had installed: the mushroom lights; the twisting vines; the dark oak saplings. He felt the need to justify what he had completed further, he felt like he hadn’t done enough, but despite that voice in the back of his head by the time he’d opened his mouth to say anything Gem had bounded back over to him and taken his hand in her own.
Instead of speaking, his eyes went wide and his entire body fell still. He could see her lips moving, he knew she was saying something, but all he could focus on was the point at which their hands were joined. Her fingers, still as slight and tender, fit. His felt so clumsy whenever they worked, yet they seemed to fit perfectly with hers. The cool he had felt earlier seemed to evaporate away, and the sickness in his body was overtaken by giddiness. He had denied himself this, but Gem had insisted upon giving it to him. He might think of himself as unworthy, but who was he to disagree with her?
“Impulse?”
To hell with it. To hell with the voice in his head and the doubts that pulled him down! To hell with the idea that he wasn’t enough! He broke the hold of their hands to instead bring his palms to her cheeks. Even now she felt delicate beneath him, but her soft skin melted away the scar tissue that covered his hands. In that same moment, so as not to lose the sudden courage he had found, Impulse brought his lips to Gem’s.
And by the void was he glad he did.
Fireworks was no way to describe the feeling. The explosions in his stomach were more like end crystals, and the pure joy that was running through his veins took him to the point he thought he might just hover above the ground. His fingers brushed over her cheeks, his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and just when he thought the feeling couldn’t get any better he felt Gem’s lips dance against his own. He felt a second burst of excitement when one palm found his shoulder, and a third when another rested on his waist.
He wanted to open his eyes to see how Gem looked as she gave him everything he could have ever wanted, but to do so would be to leave the moment in the past and he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He wanted to cherish the sweetness on her lips a while longer, to feel her tongue against his for as long as she would allow him permission. In that moment, Impulse felt like a man on death’s door. There was no other way to explain how he could have come so close to such a Goddess.
Gem was the one to part their lips, though her hands remained firmly on his body and her forehead pressed against his as if to tell him that this wasn’t over yet. A single strand of saliva kept them connected as they caught their breath in tandem, and once Impulse was certain he wasn’t going to fall over he let out a laugh.
“That was real?” He asked nobody in particular, though Gem was the only one in earshot.
“It was.” She replied, fingers tapping against him. “You waited long enough. I’ve been hinting for weeks!”
“Hinting?” His eyebrows shot up. “For me? What the heck would you be doing that for?”
“Because I wanted redstone tips.” Gem rolled her eyes. “Because I wanted to kiss you. Honestly, I know I said I was hinting, but I thought I’d been pretty obvious. If I knew you were this dense I would’ve been much clearer from the start.”
“But why would you want to kiss me?” Impulse asked, and for a moment he watched as hurt flashed across Gem’s face. Not hurt because of him, hurt for him.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She prompted, and Impulse laughed.
“Look at me, a redstone fool dressing up like a chocolatier extraordinaire. I’m hardly the sort of person on this server to be on the receiving end of affection. Especially from someone like you. You’ve created such beautiful things, you are beautiful. You’re brave and strong, level-headed and determined. You’re funny, smart, the list just goes on!” He exclaimed, before continuing a little more subdued. “I’ve got nothing to offer you, Gem. There’s nothing I can give you but myself, and I hardly think that’s a fair trade.”
Gem hummed, as if considering his words, but there was a spark in her eyes that told him her decision had already been made before he’d even started speaking. He didn’t understand why, but he had a feeling he hadn’t convinced her. She smiled, and she leaned in close once more - her lips brushing against his as she spoke.
“How about you let me be the judge of that?”