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The door slammed open, allowing for a very fussy Silver Spoon to enter. His fists were clenched, forming dainty little balls that screamed of effeminate rage. Nothing could’ve peaked Paintbrushes interest more, so they slightly shifted upwards on their couch to properly face Silver Spoon as he trotted towards them. Beginning to speak, Paintbrush cleared their throat, “You..alright?..” Concern laced into their tone, unable to be hidden in a veil of fretful confidence.
“Yes— I’m fine!” Silver Spoon hollered out, spitting each word through gritted teeth. Despite being fine, he crash landed onto the couch next to Paintbrush, stiffly sitting up straight. Crossing his arms, Silver Spoon began to grumble about some “stupid waiter” and “stupid kid”. Had Paintbrush not been worrying for Silver Spoon, they would’ve laughed at his sub-par insults. “Hey— Hey, look at me. Are you sure everything is okay,” Silver Spoon quickly glanced at Paintbrush before redirecting his gaze to a slanted portrait on the wall. “I promise I wont judge.”
Pursing his lips into a thin line, Silver Spoon gently bit his cheek in an attempt to stop himself from caving, but he ended up exhaling and inhaling rapidly. “Well, there was this idiotic waiter at that one restaurant you liked who mixed up my order and I mean it honestly was just rude! How dare they assume I want someone elses slop?! And to top it off— Some meddling kid began to laugh at me when I asserted myself to the waiter! Honestly, I’m just appalled!” He ran through every word, barely sparing any time to take as much as a breath.
Paintbrush blinked slowly, trying to fully process everything Silver Spoon said in that quick five seconds. “I..see…” They replied, tapping the arm of the couch. Paintbrush began to deliberate what to say next, making sure to not say anything that’ll just set Silver Spoon off more. “If you want, you can lay down and we can watch this movie—“ Paintbrush used their remote to point at the paused TV screen across from them. “—And we can just unwind from today.”
Rubbing his arm, Silver Spoon mouthed a few almost-words, unsure of what his next move would be. Succumbing to his own clinginess, Silver Spoon immediately slumped down into Paintbrushes lap. They wrapped their arms around Silver Spoon, sending a warm shiver up his body. It felt nice— It always had; That burning flame of theirs combatted his own inner flame! Staring at the sewing on the couch, Silver Spoon thought more to himself while the TV was playing. He felt bad for barging in like this and for being difficult. Paintbrush didn’t deserve him.
“Do you want me to restart the movie or no?” Asked Paintbrush, making their tone more soft to further soothe Silver Spoon. Planting a soft kiss on Silver Spoon’s cheek, they snuggled closer while rubbing Silver Spoon’s arms. They couldn’t help but smile, hopelessly in love with a haughty piece of silverware.
“I’m fine with whatever.” Silver Spoon mumbled out, slightly flustered from Paintbrushes peck on his cheek. Looking at them again, he saw Paintbrush slightly shrug while just unpausing the movie from where it was before he came in. God, even Silver Spoon had to admit he was insufferable. Who wants to deal with a prissy manchild who just shoulders all his problems onto others? Only Paintbrush could know, and that comforted Silver Spoon into a cozy sleep in between the arms of a loving painter, cradling their muse.