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Fog clouded the windows on the bus back home. Paintbrush watched the snowy world around them pass while blasting music through their headphones. The drive back to the hotel was easy, just about 20 minutes. They had heard talk about a party next week for the infamous day of hearts and love.
Valentine’s day.
They knew they weren’t getting asked out any time soon. No one really looked in their direction in the romance department. However, that party might be fun. An escape from the stress of working.
The bus slowed down outside the hotel. Paintbrush stood up out of their seat, shimmying out of the bus. Snow crunched under their combat boots.
Inside, the smell of waffles drifted through the hallways, and there was a heart garland above the elevator door in the lobby. They stopped to greet Bot and Test Tube, who were making decorations and watching some horror show. Should Bot even watch that stuff??
“Hey, how was that art show?” Test Tube asked, cutting another heart garland.
“It was alright. If I'm being honest, I was there for the chocolate cake,” Paintbrush chuckled out, pulling off their coat, “I’m going up to my room, catch you later!”
The elevator whirred upstairs to the second floor. Paintbrush’s boots hit the floor rhythmically, and they dragged their hand against the wall. Pictures of everyone decorated the walls.
Paintbrush grabbed their keys, unlocking the door. However, as soon as they opened it, it hit someone.
“Lightbulb?? Why are you on my floor?”
Lightbulb sat on their carpet, now holding her foot that had been run over with the door. “You gave me a pair of keys to your room, remember? I was checking up on Baxter since it’s your weekend with him.”
She stood up, hopping on one foot to fall down on their neatly organized bed. Paintbrush set their keys in a small ceramic cup by their door.
“Well.. how’s he doing?” They asked, taking off their shoes and placing them against the wall. Lightbulb just shrugged, her eyes glued to the tank. Baxter, their shared pet crab they both treated like their son, was idly sleeping in the warm light of the tank. Paintbrush came over to her, sitting down.
The evening settled nicely. Though one thought wasn’t leaving Paintbrush’s mind. The Valentine’s party.. would she be interested? They relaxed their shoulders, taking a breath.
“Hey, um- did you hear about that party next week? The- The one that OJ’s planning?” Paintbrush asked, desperately trying to go for chill and nonchalant. The tremble in their voice exposed them all the way. Lightbulb paused the kissing sounds she was making at Baxter.
“The party? Oh yeah, I’ve heard some chit-chat about it! Sounds right up my alley. Ya asking me something, Painty?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Their heart jumped out of their chest.
“I… was just wondering if you were gonna go. I’m a bit skeptical of the whole- thing. But if you’re going, I’ll go,” admitted Paintbrush, tipping their head forwards.
Lightbulb couldn’t resist teasing them, she laughed bright and fizzy. “Aww, Painty. Got a crush on little ol me? You’re asking me out, right?” She grinned, hitting their arm as they panicked.
“What- No! I- I mean as friends! Platonic! It’s not like that!” Paintbrush stammered, eyes going wide and jerking their head up to look at her. Their face had flushed almost the same shade of pink as the ends of their hair. Lightbulb snorted, the same laugh that made Paintbrush feel like they were melting inside.
“Relax, I’m teasingggguhhh.. But yeah, I’m up for that. It’s on Saturday, right? Should I get flowers?” Lightbulb asked, itching the back of her neck.
“N-No, you don’t need to.. It’s just a party..” They mumbled out, hand flexing on their own thigh.
Lightbulb giggled again at how embarrassed they were about it. “Kay, Painty. I’ll get going.” She got up, putting on her light up sneakers. Paintbrush nodded quickly.
“If you change your mind about it.. I’ll be around,” They told her as she quietly shut the door with a small farewell.
Paintbrush walked to their dresser, taking off their makeup. They walked to their bathroom, starting a warm bath. The mirror started fogging up as they eased themself into slippery porcelain. Thinking time. They were great at thinking. Sure.
They didn’t like her like that. Surely it was just platonic. But.. the way her eyes travelled to them whenever they entered the room, the way her smile was permanently etched into their brain, the way her voice dropped an octave at sleepovers late at night. Lightbulb was gorgeous too. Her curls, the delicate hair on arms, the shape of her nose. More things they wouldn’t exactly hate to admit.
The week had passed by agonizingly slow. Paintbrush was nothing but a tall mess of sweat around her. Lightbulb hadn’t been very different, just passing glances when they tried to avoid her in the hallways. She had stopped them a decent couple of times to say hello. She was teasing, yes, but they could tell she still cared. She cared enough to get a ladder and climb up to the attic to snag some ibuprofen for them when they had headaches.
More decorations had been added to the hallways, only adding to the daunting thought of the dance that was bugging Paintbrush.
They sighed into their pillow in the morning, sun shining through a sliver in their curtains. The dance was tomorrow. They needed a suit. Or dress. Whatever. Gender roles were dumb.
After a quick call in as absent from their job, Paintbrush grabbed their wallet and made a run to a thrift shop. The traffic was horrible today.
“Could these cars drive ANY more carefully?” They asked angrily to themself, honking the horn before groaning into their hands. “Might as well walk!”
After 10 more minutes of bad traffic, they slid into a parking spot, hopping out and locking their car. They huffed, opening the door to a thrift store they liked. The bell on the door jingled and the smell of coffee wafted into their nose. Paintbrush scanned the rows of clothes. Maybe a dress? Would Lightbulb like that? No.. she likes them for them.
Paintbrush settled on a dark red blouse with a little heart embroidered on the breast pocket. Very Valentines. They stuffed the shirt into a bag, checking out. They bought some bubblegum for Lightbulb too.
They drove home, listening to the ambiance of traffic again. They made sure to take deep breaths like everyone always told them to. When they arrived back at the hotel, Paintbrush rushed past everyone and hurried up to their room.
Elevator music that OJ had installed in June of last year droned through the speaker. Paintbrush sighed audibly, hitting snow off their boots. They emptied out the bag, trying on the shirt. It looked.. pretty nice. It would look good with a silver necklace. Paintbrush searched their small room, trying to find some jewelry. They glanced at the clock.
About 17 hours till the party. They didn’t need to worry. Paintbrush sat back on their bed, pulling out their smartphone.
They immediately texted her.
PB: hi i got clothes
She started typing immediately.
LB: thought you already got stuff silly goose
LB: you’ll look so cute
Paintbrush felt blush creep up their neck again. Flirting? Maybe? They didn’t know how to flirt.
PB: ty
That was rough. They turned off their phone, running their hands through their hair. Paintbrush laid down, exhaling. They weren’t gonna survive that stupid dance without malfunctioning in some embarrassing way.
After a decent night’s rest, Paintbrush woke up groggy and grumpy like usual. They drank old coffee and stayed inside their room all day working on a sketch. Art wasn’t their BEST skill, but it was entertaining. They had a very creative mind in their opinion. After a somewhat successful piece of work, Paintbrush glanced at their clock.
2 minutes? Crap, time goes by fast when you’re doing stuff. They hurried off their bed, shoving the new shirt over their torso. A couple puffs of cologne, and a few silver chains around their neck and waist.
They looked nice. Now the hard part. Sneaking into the dance without Lightbulb seeing them.
To their surprise, it was inexorably easy. Lightbulb was still hidden away in her room when they arrived downstairs. Punch (most likely spiked, because who could trust these guys) sat on a long table. A plate of heart shaped cookies sat out on the table as well. 20 minutes passed of Paintbrush worrying. She wasn’t here yet.
Paintbrush could trust her though, she never disappointed them. Lightbulb was perfect at keeping promises, even with obstacles. They sipped from a drink, making a disgusted face at the fizzy feeling.
Then, out of the blue, Lightbulb popped up from behind them. She was in an illegally short dress. It was pink and sparkly with sequins. Very her.
“Hi, Painty!” She called out, stepping close to them. Their face heated up. “You clean up nice.”
Paintbrush swallowed another sip, nodding. “Thank you. Uh, you look pretty.”
Lightbulb smiled bashfully, twirling one of her curls. She was so cute it was infuriating to them. Her makeup was blue and shiny, her eyelashes long and curled. Paintbrush liked their own eyelashes, but hers… her lashes were amazing. She could look up at them with those eyes and they would lose their grasp on reality. Lightbulb looked impossibly angelic tonight.
They muttered something way too mushy to her. They didn't even register what they said. Or hear it over the noise. Their whole face went nuclear. Lightbulb’s eyes widened and she grinned in her own enthusiastic way.
“What’d you say?”
It didn’t take long for them to respond. Paintbrush’s thoughts were screaming at them to leave this place.
“Nothing! Excuse me!!” Paintbrush yelped, maneuvering past her, dropping their cup in the trash. They took off for the nearest bathroom, crashing into the door. Lightbulb looked back with a confused look plastered on her face.
“UUGHhhfuck..fuck…fuck.. fuck.” Paintbrush groaned into their sweaty palms. They were so stupid. Stupid, stupid. Only two minutes into the conversation and they butchered it. Some loud song echoed its way into the bathroom.
Paintbrush took a bit to calm down, splashing their faded red cheeks with cool water. It made them shiver and they sank to the floor helplessly. They traced the individual white tiles with their pointer finger. They could get over this. As long as she didn’t follow the-
“Painty? Is it occupied here?” Her familiar voice rang out, and they heard the muffled sound of her flats clacking the floor. They wish they could scream at her. To leave them alone. “I got you chocolate.”
Oh, that was nice of her.
“Um..Yeah.. I’m uh.. I’m in here,” Paintbrush muttered out pathetically into their cupped hands. They heard Lightbulb tug open the door, the same clicking of her shoes following. She poked her head around the corner, making brief eye contact with Paintbrush before they ducked their head.
“Hey,” Lightbulb plopped herself down on the floor, her head gently colliding with the wall. She brought a hand up to her head, wincing. “Here’s the candy.”
Paintbrush looked up, eyes glimmery with almost-tears. They politely took the chocolate, unwrapping it and popping it into their mouth. Lightbulb stayed still in her spot, her steady breathing sounded forced.
“A- Uh, are you doing okay? You kinda ran off there,” She worried, avoiding eye contact and playing with a plastic ring she found on the floor. Paintbrush leaned their head against the wall.
“I-I dunno, Lightbulb,” Paintbrush croaked, one hand twitching on their leg. They weren’t sure what to tell her. That they had a huge crush on her that they denied in their free time? That they would rather be upstairs in their room? Both would end horribly.
A beat of silence went by.
“I can go if you want.”
Paintbrush’s head snapped towards her, shaking their head involuntarily. “No, no you don't have to do that! Y-You’re fine right there.”
Lightbulb blinked, sliding towards them again. Her eyes flicked around their face. Paintbrush felt their head spin from the attention. She was right there. Yet not trying to understand them like usual. They tried thinking of something to say.
“Uh, I-I’m.. sorry about running away. I get nervous at parties. Unless I’m drunk. You don’t wanna see me drunk, I-I get all weird and mushy and that’s weird-”
One of Lightbulb’s fingers pressed lightly against their lips, smudging their lipstick accidentally. They shut up immediately.
“I don’t really care why ya ran away, I just wanted to know if you were gonna throw up or somethin’ else,” Lightbulb chuckled, pulling her hand away and setting it close to their own on the cool tiles of the floor. The room felt.. intimate. Even with “Shake it Off” blasting from the party. Paintbrush sighed.
“Well, good news, I didn’t throw up. Still. I’m sorry for bailing on you like 40 seconds into the party,” Paintbrush said, shifting to face her.
More silence passed. Lightbulb shifted around.
“Why’d you ask me out to this whole function?” She inquired. Paintbrush paused. They weren’t gonna confess to her after literally just figuring out they were down bad for her.
“N-No reason. I didn’t want you to be lonely,” Paintbrush muttered, “Even if I didn’t ask you out- AS A FRIEND- I wouldn’t want you to be sitting alone.”
“I have other friends.”
“Yeah, but.. not like us, right?”
“Right.”
Lightbulb’s hand reached out for their face. It almost looked like it was trembling. Paintbrush knew she was a strong woman. Her hand landed with a small pat on their cheek. They leaned into the touch embarrassingly. Lightbulb’s eyes were searching in theirs for a hint of something. Something special. An answer. Or was she asking for something?
She was leaning closer. Oh no. Oh no no no no. They weren’t ready. Paintbrush’s hands clenched as hard as possible on their pants, eyes darting to the side. Lightbulb had scooted closer, the fabric of her dress touching their thigh now.
Their lip trembled from nerves, hands starting to hurt. Paintbrush felt Lightbulb’s hand slide from their cheek, down their neck, to their shoulders. They allowed tension to be released from their core.
They were far too easy for her.
What felt like hours of sitting eventually shifted into Lightbulb softly pressing her lipgloss covered lips into their own lipstick covered ones. Paintbrush exhaled through their nose, hand coming up to cradle her neck, lightly rubbing the hair on her neck.
Lightbulb kept the kiss going, her eyes peaking open to see if theirs were closed. Paintbrush’s eyes were tightly shut, and they tilted their head, accidentally deepening the tender kiss. Lightbulb let out an embarrassed sound from the back of her throat, her adam's apple bobbing from nerves. She pulled back, resting her forehead against their rosy cheeks. Paintbrush didn’t know what to say to her.
“So, um- hi,” Lightbulb breathed, looking up at them with her devastatingly pretty light brown eyes. “I’m sorry, that was my second kiss, I’m not that good at it yet.”
“What..?” Paintbrush croaked, catching their breath. It was awkward in here now. They wish they had said something, because now Lightbulb ruined their moment. She crashed her head into their shoulder.
“I’ll shut up, sorry.”
“N-No, you’re fine. I’ll stay quiet.”
They were quiet. Until Lightbulb piped up again.
“I totally messed up your lipstick, I’m sorry.. I don’t know why I did that. Actually I do. I think my actions speak more than my mouth. I- If you get it,” She muttered pathetically into their collarbone, her hand going to their slim waist.
Paintbrush’s brain wasn't working. They had asked her out, bailed on her, she found them and kissed them. They weren’t deserving of her affection, they were dumb and stupid and bad at socializing.
Unable to say anything else, they placed their hand without rings in Lightbulb’s messy curls just so they wouldn't tangle it up. More minutes went by. Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Paintbrush panicked and shouted occupied at them.
They stayed on the tiled floor for a while. Lightbulb kept peeking at them and dramatically sighing under her breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.. It’s nothing.”
Paintbrush swallowed. “Whatever it is, you- you can tell me you know. We’re best friends.”
“Are we though? I’ve seen that look you give me when I wear those short shorts. I know you like me, Painty,” Lightbulb straightened herself up, pushing her bangs back and adjusting her glasses on her nose. “You’re the only one that cares to remember all my dumb shit.”
Paintbrush’s hand trembled against their own cheek. Maybe they were just that easy. Too easy to read. They had to say SOMETHING to her.
“You’re right. I- I think I do,” they confessed into their cupped hands. “I’m sorry for not telling you, I should be more honest with my feelings.”
More silence passed. Paintbrush shifted uncomfortably, awaiting her response. She never said anything, just reaching out her hand for their leg.
“We don’t have to rush, we can be us, y’know.. Good ol’ Paintbrush and Lightbulb,” Lightbulb started. “I-I’m not rejecting you! I definitely need to prepare before we jump into a relationship conundrum.”
Paintbrush nodded, eyes stinging a little. “Yeah, um, that sounds okay. I’m okay with that.”
“Good. Well, I’ll meet you out on the dance floor!” She said, standing up and nearly tripping on her feet. Paintbrush watched her dress swoop around the corner.
At least she didn’t reject them. They could manage this. She’s still here, just not ready! And to be honest, Paintbrush probably wasn’t ready for that yet either.
They stood up, cleaned up their lipstick in the mirror and entered the dancing room with a brighter smile than earlier.
Hopefully things would work out for them.