Chapter Text
"I'm so happy that your new place is so close," Shumby chattered, easily keeping pace with Cobble's brisk walk, their footsteps on the pavement in sync. They passed under frequent street lights in the street, which was otherwise coated in darkness. "We'll have so much more time to hang out."
Cobble hummed in agreement. "I've been looking forward to this for months now. Not because of you or anything, my old landlord was just an asshole," he teased.
Shumby gasped dramatically. "How could you say such a thing? She was so sweet, she even made cookies for you on the day you left!"
"They were rock hard, I almost tore a tooth out trying to take a bite."
"Well, it's the thought that counts, right?" Shumby grinned at his friend's look of disdain.
"I'm pretty sure she was trying to seriously injure me," Cobble muttered.
They stopped abruptly as they spotted the number "737" embossed into the building's sandstone facade.
"Well, here it is," Cobble announced, peering inside. "Not sure what I was expecting..."
The lights were off, but Cobble eyes adjusted quickly. The ground floor was rather stark, an empty desk to the left of the room and elevators at the back.
"Maybe you expected it to look... occupied?" Shumby suggested.
Cobble snorted, but Shumby wasn't wrong. The place would look abandoned if the desk was not clearly wiped down. As the two walked in, the lights flickered on automatically.
"Not so bad now, hm?" Cobble made his way to the elevators.
"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't make sense for the lights to be on at 1 in the morning..." Shumby followed closely behind.
The doors opened as soon as Cobble pushed the button, and he swallowed before entering. It lacked the usual mirror, simply having an overhead light and crimson wallpaper.
Huh, it matches his hair.
Shumby noticed his friend's hesitation, and thought for a second before speaking. "Cobble, it'll be fine."
Cobble sighed. "I know, I know. Nothing to worry about. What could possibly go wrong?"
Still, he shivered slightly as the doors closed, and tried not to notice how close the walls were and how close Shumby was to him and how low the ceiling was and—
Cobble jumped as Shumby's forearm brushed against his.
"Oh, sorry, I was just—" Shumby's face tinged red with a mixture of guilt, but also something else.
"It's fine. Sorry."
The elevator hummed as it began to rise. Cobble closed his eyes, feeling the steady shaking of the small room in his bones.
Deep breaths.
After an eternity, the elevator slowed to a stop. They waited for the doors to open.
"Uhh..." Shumby tried pressing the button.
Nothing.
It's never that simple, is it.
"Well, fuck." Cobble tried to hold his composure.
"Look, maybe we can just call the helpline. It's just the doors, surely they can open it." Shumby pushed the orange button three times.
A robotic voice answered: "Help has been requested. Estimated time of arrival: 2:10am."
"What!? That's in an hour! God damnit..." Shumby glanced at his friend, who had sunk to the floor, resigning to his fate. He sat down next to the cat. "Guess we just have to wait."
Shumby jolted as Cobble gripped at his wrist and whispered, "For a damn hour."
Cobble broke the long silence, deciding it would make it more bearable. "You know, the elevator's walls match your hair."
"So they do. Are you alright?" Shumby was relieved to hear his friend speak.
"I'm fine. It's a nice color..."
"My hair? Thank you, I don't think I've ever been complimented on it before."
"What?" Cobble's eyes widened. "Ever? It's so unique! It really suits you."
"You think so? I was actually considering going back to black, but maybe I can keep it for a little longer."
They fell into silence again.
"I never noticed how colorful your eyes were." Shumby whispered, almost to himself.
Cobble whipped his head around just fast enough to see Shumby avert his gaze.
What????
"Hm?" Cobble thought he had misheard in his drowsiness.
"Who am I kidding? I noticed it the first time I saw you..." Shumby murmured, looking down.
Oh, I get it.
"Real funny. You're just absolutely head over heels over me, aren't you?" Cobble accused.
"Mmm. I mean, whaaat?"
Cobble didn't think about how a patch of crimson seemed to creep up Shumby's neck yet again, instead choosing to close his eyes in wait for their saviour.