Chapter Text
Paintbrush tugged Lightbulb closer to themself, enough so that Paintbrush could feel Lightbulb’s breath go down their neck.
“I love you, Lightbulb.” Paintbrush hummed, letting their hand go smoothly down Lightbulb’s cheek.
“And I love you too.” Lightbulb said, allowing herself a smile.
Paintbrush smiled back, although a distinct type of smile compared to Lightbulb’s. “Y’know, I think I can finally see it.”
“See.. what?” Lightbulb asked inquisitively.
“Me and you in college, doing this each and every night. That’s all I’d ever need in life.”
“Heh, if I make it into college.”
“Hey.” Paintbrush said, slightly changing their tone. “I know that you, out of anyone, would be a lovely addition to any college. And besides, if a college doesn’t let you in, fuck ‘em.”
Lightbulb giggled. “You’re only saying that because you’re my enbyfriend!” Lightbulb said, trying unsuccessfully to sound mad.
Paintbrush giggled along, pausing for a second for their face to turn back into a gentle smile. “But I’m not. You are unlike any person I’ve ever met, Lightbulb. You can make even the unhappiest person feel better. You were even able to change me, and trust me, that’s hard. You talk about life in such a vivid way that it makes me excited for my future- our future. There are so many different words which could describe a little piece of you, but all of them combined could never accurately paint a picture of just how wonderful you are.”
Lightbulb stood (or laid, I suppose, she is in a bed) stunned, before laughing. “You didn’t have to get so corny.”
“I poured my heart into that and you call it cor-”
Before Paintbrush could finish their sentence, Lightbulb had already grabbed their face and pulled them into a kiss. One second, two seconds, three seconds, the kiss continued.
Lightbulb and Paintbrush stared at each other, both of their eyes exerting a smile. Paintbrush moved one of their hands onto Lightbulb’s face, putting back one of her strands of hair which had fallen onto her face.
There was something on Lightbulb’s mind she wanted to talk about, but with the sweetness of the kiss, it seemed to wash away from her mind.
Sometime near the twelfth second, Lightbulb let go of the kiss, moving her hands from Paintbrush’s face to their back, pulling Paintbrush closer to herself.
“I didn’t think it was actually corny, don’t worry.”
Paintbrush blinked. “You.. I hate you a lot, you know that?”
“Oh, and what was that monologue you had 20 seconds ago about?”
Paintbrush couldn’t help but just shake their head slightly and giggle. “We are so stupid.”
“Maybe, but we’re stupid together.”
“I love being stupid together.”
“So do I, Painty.”
Paintbrush and Lightbulb’s hand moved as if they were synchronized, finding each other in the smidgen of space between the two. With a little bit of configuration, their fingers intertwined.
Finally, the two settled down, their breathing slowing as they each looked at each other, not uttering a word. Lightbulb let herself admire Paintbrush for what was it now, the thousandth time? Their brown eyes, their faded, bleached hair; their two, almost unnoticeable wrinkles near their smile. Lightbulb thought all of their features melded together so well.
Then, Lightbulb’s eyes darted back to Paintbrush’s.
Lightbulb’s breathing began to increase once again, her eyes dilating. Paintbrush’s face turned into a hue of confusion and worry, gripping Lightbulb’s arm.
“Lightbulb? Are you alright?”
Lightbulb didn’t respond, her breathing turning into hyperventilating.
“Lightbulb, please, what’s wrong?”
“Y-you.” Lightbulb spit out.
“What?”
“Your eyes.”
Suddenly, Lightbulb shot herself out of bed, her heart still racing from her dream.
Dream.
Lightbulb’s eyes, for some reason, wanted to stare out of her blinds. The sun seemed to just have begun to rise, indicating it was another early morning for her. The glimpse of sun grazed her room in a faint light, ending right at the start of her bed.
It was these first few seconds of the day, where she forgot everything about herself and her life, which was the highlight of her day.
Lightbulb mentally hit herself for not catching on earlier. Of course it was a dream. Of course it was. Paintbrush’s eyes were always black, not any shade of brown.
Lightbulb didn’t know how many times she’d already had a dream just like this one, with her and Paintbrush both cuddling in bed and talking. Lightbulb thought it was getting pathetic at this point.
She just had to deal with it.
Paintbrush was dead.