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Whew. You got this, Red. You've only practiced this in the mirror like what, seventeen times? Yeah. Yeaaaaah! You gooooot this. It's FINE! You GOT it.
This was it! This was—this was happening. Red was going to ask Purple out. An event that would probably be packaged in with Red confessing their crush too, yeah. So. Uh. Haha. Nothing to be nervous about here. Just another casual conversation between Red and their ten times cooler more competent crewmate. Yup.
Red had been planning on doing it after they clocked out, but after having it on their mind all day, they feel like a boiling pot making its lid go crazy from the bubbling water underneath.
During one of their breaks, Red sneaks a glance at Purple, who is—relaxed. Chill. Content. It's a good look on them. Like how confidence is a good look on them. Purple was way better at that stuff than Red; they were reliable, and cool, and nice, and funny. And they were Red's friend. How could Red not like Purple?
Red sneaks a glance at Purple, hoping they're not as obvious as they feel.
They're leaning against the wall, hand in their pocket, left hand twitching for a smoke. Purple had a slight hunch that was a bit more pronounced at this moment. Red notes how Purple watches what's in front of them with intent, the world their fishtank. Red copies the direction of their gaze, wanting to see what they see: wondering if Purple is looking in or out of the glass.
"Do you wanna get coffee with me?!" Red blurts out, unable to take the suspense any longer.
Red is sweating. Purple looks surprised, their back still peeled to the wall, but alert from Red's outburst. "After work, right?" they ask with a rough easiness in their voice, picking up on Red's question as if it wasn't so abrupt. God, they're cool. "Sure, I'm down."
"—R-really?" Red beams, unable to not look so pleased. "I-I mean yes! Right! Of course."
"Great." Purple smiles. Small and slight and warm.
"Great!" Red parrots. "Yeah! Great! Woohoo!" Oh my god I sound like an idiot shit how do I reign this back in. "Call me the day before Friday, the way I'm so excited!!" Fuck. "What will end first? This shift or my life??" No!! "Guess we'll find out soon, right? Haha." Stop!! Nooo! "G-get it, because it's—one or the other—I think I've been talking for too long. I've definitely been talking for too long. Can you tell me to stop? I can't stop, it's just like, woah, I keep saying cruh—aaaazy things, a-a-and I dunno what to say next, so I just kinda start saying stuff—? And," Dammit, Red!! What are you gonna do next?? Jump and click your heels and go YIPPIE!!!!? "—Ahem."
Red sweats as Purple stares at them contemplatively. NOOOO FUUUUUCK PURPLE'S GONNA THINK I'M CRAZY I LOOK SO CRAZY RIGHT NOW FUUUUCK I CAN'T STOP SMILING.
Purple ends up laughing, though. As if Red hasn't just totally embarrassed themself. The world goes quiet at the sound, and Red's pulse pounds in their ears. Purple's voice seems so much louder, and it rings and echoes through Red's brain, rough and hitching and high. So maybe it's not all that bad.
Red joins in with their own chuckle, all awkward and nervous, desperately pretending to function on the same level as normal person as Purple is doing right now.
"You sound real excited to ditch this place," Purple remarks with a sort of bemusement. "Can't say I'm not the same. We ain't so different, huh?"
Red thinks they couldn't be any more different. But Red is eager for any approval from Purple, so if Purple says so— "Well, uh. I guess you must be right!"
The place is one of MIRA's signature colony coffee shops. It's shitty coffee, yeah, but it's—something. When they get there, Red isn't really sure how they're supposed to do this, actually. When is the part they're supposed to tell Purple exactly how they feel?? Before or after the date? While they talk over the coffee? But Purple already knows that Red's interested them to an extent due to the whole date existing in the first place. Dammit, if only they had some sort of manual for how to do this…
"—How are you??" asks Red, hopefully not sounding too forced. That didn't sound too forced, right?? Uh!
Purple turns to them slightly, raising a brow. "We were together the whole day."
"Oh, yeah." Red deflates sheepishly. "Right."
"Good."
"What?"
"I mean, you asked me how my day was anyway—so I'd say it was good."
"Oh!" Red smiles. "That's nice."
Steaming paper cups in hand, the two of them claim a steel table. Purple's cool demeanor seems to infect Red, because Red actually finds themself relaxing in falling into a natural flow of talking—there's still this excited buzz humming through them, but it's more faded now as they're able to focus more on just being in the moment.
"How's Heracles?" Red remembers to ask, because of the way that Purple beams when they do.
"Heracles is great!! I think they're in an argument with Perseus, but it's nothing that can't be solved with another treasure chest."
"Ah," Red hums in understanding, "always with the treasure chests."
"Always with the treasure chests," Purple agrees with a dry chuckle. "Yeah, fishmates go crazy for those? For some reason?"
"Probably their equivalent of a loot box?" suggests Red.
"Probably," says Purple. "I mean, by definition it is—"
"A loot box," they say in unison.
"Yeahhhh," replies Red. They gesture with their hand. "I mean, if I were a fishmate, I probably wouldn't anyone else messing around with my stuff either."
"Exactly! But I'm just worried—what if they forget chest which belongs to who?" Purple's face wrinkles. "Or what if they don't think their treasure chest is special anymore because there's two?"
"Fishmate psychology… yeaaaaah, that is—unfortunately not my area of expertise."
"God, me either."
All things considered, the date goes… well?
Red may as well be exploding with sunshine from within—the date went well!! Now for the final part of the final phase—wrapping it up.
Come on, Red. This'll be easy to NOT mess up! Remember! A low score is still gonna appear on the leaderboard if it's the only one! You! Got! This!! You can pull this off!! Come on!!
The time comes, and they're about to part ways at the entrance at the shop, and Red discovers the threshold of the thing called the "date", the this is ending now but I don't want it to really end just yet so I'm making these goodbyes last as long as possible. They label this as a secret boss phase—how was Red supposed to know that they'd enjoy this so much that they didn't want it to end?
(At the same time, it's gotta end so Red can go squeal into their pillow and kick their feet about the date.)
"I—I had a nice time," says Red. "Would you like to again? Do this again, I mean. Would you like this. I mean to. Uhh. Yaknow."
"Oh, well. Yeah, of course!"
The earnesty in Purple's face is an arrow piercing through Red's heart; Red feels as though they'll burst into pink glitter and sparkles this very moment with how they flush and fight the urge to squeal right then and there. It gives them the energy to grin and wave— "T-that's awesome, then! It's a date!" they exclaim. Red winks, then aims a finger gun at Purple, going "Aaaaaaa—" as they level their scope—then: "Kachow!" as the mime the blast with a grin. Red then whips around in a giddiness-fueled burst of motion, marching all the way back home with a chipper whistle. Purple had a good time!! Purple liked them!! Purple was interested!! This was GREAT!!
Red only finds it within to compose themself two steps out of their apartment door, only to jump for joy once they're inside. A celebration of skipping, cheering, and spinning commences. Red feels invincible—the hard part was over. Nothing could go wrong now!
EVERYTHING GOES WRONG.
Red waves to Purple the next day at work, and—it's different. Not a good different, not the we've got a fun secret and now we've got to work together like we're totally not dating hehe kind of different that Red was expecting, but—an awkward different. A Purple won't look me in the eye different. Because Purple cringes when they see Red—they grimace, and quickly try to pull it back and seem normal, but it's not reflexive enough for Red to not catch the abnormality. And that—that, that feeling of—of being managed.
It stings.
Red carefully catches Purple's shoulder "Hey, Purps. Is everything o—"
"I'm fine." Purple whips around, a smile hastily pulled unto their face. "I—tasks! Tasks, yeah. Tasks. Mhm. You know? I love—doing them. I love the card swipe."
"Riiiiiight," Red agrees, trailing off with a weak chuckle. "Except you hate the card swipe."
"I do."
"Except for when you do it first try," says Red. "Which is definitely something that I always do perfectly."
"Obviously," Purple nods sagely.
Red gestures to the scanner, a faint tease of a smirk growing on their face as they make a grand gesture to the thing. "Please, do prove it."
"Of course." Purple produces their card with a sharp motion, about to scan—until they turn to give Red a pointed look, their brow raised. "First. Try."
"Uh huh," says Red.
"Easiest card scan ever," says Purple, and then they scan their card, and the light (accompanied with a harsh little buzz) immediately flashes red.
Purple eases up slightly throughout the work day, which—ironically—makes Red start being the one to act weird. They can't help but feel like Purple is holding themself back around Red, that any moment Purple will go hey actually I hate you and I regret going on that date and I want to never see you again so I'm gonna quit. Because, if you think about it, that could totally happen.
Incidentally, Red fails to meet Purple's eyes everytime they pass by. It's—it's not really something to focus on. They're busy, they're doing their tasks, who cares if they'd usually smile or talk doing those times? Haha. No, no, they're—they're busy. There's work to be done. No time for—any of this. Yeah.
So when Purple is in the slowly decreasing distance during their break, for what Red knows is gonna be a proposal to rendezvous for stolen pizza crusts, they start to back away. Then they start to run, but Purple knows what's up, so their walk speed is already increasing.
Red squeaks, now in a full-blown sprint, scrambling across hallway after hallway, scientists carting around their materials—they barely whiff by, but the comical noises behind them strongly indicate that Purple is hot on their trail. Red sweats, like—really sweats. Purple can be really fast when there's pizza crusts involved.
They fling open the door to the storage room and dash behind some cargo, panting. Footsteps following outside the hall skid to a stop, and the door groans open; a cone of the light on the floor increasing as it does. Red slaps a hand over their mouth in hopes of quieting themself from any noise that could spill out, back pressed to the back of the cargo like their life depends on it.
"Hey, buddy," Purple calls out—click, clack, click—their footsteps pressing on the hard floor, near and fear then near. "Working hard—" they grit, "or hardly working."
Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't do anything. They don't know you're here. They don't—know—you're here! Haha! If Purple doesn't find you, they can't break your heart! Yes!!
Purple might as well be dragging a muddled metal bat across the floor, trailing blood behind it. I mean, they're—they're not that, but Red thinks it'd justify their fear a little more. Because that's how it feels.
The footsteps pad on to the center of the room. Red swallows, knowing Purple is just one corner turn away from seeing which shadow in which they were lurking. Purple tenses, and Red knows it's over, knows they should start apologizing, start saying goodbye to their friendship, but—
Purple sighs. It's heavy, and—disappointed. Maybe even a little tired.
"…Fine," they say, and then they leave, and that's it.
They close the door behind them. It's dark in the storage room, Red realizes, way too late.
This is the part of the day where Red is supposed to have lunch with Purple.
If there's anything Red is doing, it's NOT hiding in the bathroom.
…
Okay, they are definitely hiding in the bathroom. Unfortunately, they did not grab anything to eat, so—they're hungry. In the bathroom, of all places. Sigh.
Someone enters the bathroom, and Red freezes—as the footsteps dawdle through the bathroom, Red wonders if its too late to shuffle their feet up as to make it seem like their stall is empty, even though it's locked. It's—for the effect. Okay.
Red squints, and frowns, making their face all wrinkly and bunched—only then do they dare to carefully tilt their head down to see the shoes of the newcomer. They let out a string of curses—yes, it's Purple, obviously—who else?
It's definitely Purple, because the pair of shoes goes directly to Red's stall, even though had already pulled their feet up for the illusion of the stall being empty—that'd happened earlier, instinctively—Red hadn't even noticed. Something picked at their heart at the concept of avoiding Purple becoming natural. But they'd rather have Purple being awkward around them then no Purple at all, right?
So, Purple—it's Purple who stops outside of Red's stall and sighs.
"Can we talk?" they ask.
Their precense outside the door is steady as a rock, but something about it feels lingering. Tinged at the edges. Hesitant. (Scared?) (Unsure....)
Red squeezes themself smaller, coated in nerves and sweat and guilt and awfulness.
They consider what to say, even though nothing comes out. Talk—? Talk about what? About, uh, hah, there's—nothing! Nothing to talk about. Hah. 'Can we talk'.
"Red," says Purple. "Redsy. Come on. It's just me, I'm—I'm not gonna hurt you."
Red wilts—frowns at that. It's like a stick prodding at their weak, beating heart. They can sense Purple shaking their head as they continue to speak.
"—but I guess that's not true, is it? I... I think I already have."
"Wait," says Red. "Wait, wait, wait, no—" Red puts down their feet, speaking before they can even think about it. Impulsive, maybe, but Purple is sad and Purple is blaming themself. "It's—it's my fault, my screw-up, I just—I was avoiding you because I still want to be friends. Which, I know, I know—sounds really weird in retrospective! But it's true! I was—I was scared."
"Red—"
"It was my feelings getting in the way of everything," Red says, the words just spilling out once they've started, "I should've known better, should've known not to put you in that position, I, um—understand. If you—regret it. I should've just accepted that, and. Moved on. But—I made it…" Red cringes. "Weird. I made it weird. And I'm sorry. And I—I hope we can still be friends. But I get if that's too much to ask—"
"Red," Purple presses. "Open the door?"
"…I—" Red resists the urge to go eugh at themself upon realizing they just made their heartfelt apology to a bathroom stall door. They think of grumbling as they stare into the bumpy pattern of the stall door. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Right."
Red lamely unlocks the stall, pokes the door into opening. It's slow, and kinda awkward, and Purple is revealed to them with a flurry of emotions slapped on their face. A watery smile, relief and worry and tenderness and apologies pooled in their face— "Come on," they say, and they drag Red stumbling over to the wall. "Sit."
"On the dirty bathroom floor," Red says as Purple lets go of their hand and sinks down.
Purple rolls their eyes. "This is important." So Red makes a big show of acting disgusted as they sit on the floor; Purple fails to hide their smile behind their mouth, which causes Red to smile tentatively in turn.
"First of all," Purple declares. "Of course you'll always be my friend."
Red melts, and just like that, they already feel lighter.
They slightly raise one of their fists to make a little cheer: "Yaaay," they say, a small but sure smile on their face.
Purple chuckles fondly. "Second of all! I, er, had no idea that was a date."
And then it all starts to make sense. "Oooooooh," Red says, the inflection sounding about the opposite of the previous yay. "Oh."
"Yeah," Purple sucks in a breath through their teeth. "And, um, if I knew, I—would've probably said no."
"Oh," says Red.
"…I hope that's okay, too."
"O-oh!" Red shakes their head, sounding like an idiot who only knows the word oh. "No, no—I mean yes! Yes, of course that's okay!"
"Sorry," says Purple.
"You don't have to be sorry," says Red. "It's—they're my feelings."
"Oh," says Purple, and it's their turn to look like an idiot. "Oh, you—actually had feelings? For—me."
Red recoils, because this is a little more embarrassing now. Was it really so unfathomable to Purple? That Red would have to spell it out like this? But—no, Red isn't embarrassed about liking Purple, actually. Liking Purple is one of those things they'd like to shout to the world from the top of their lungs: I love Purple! Purple is awesome!!
So Red says, with sudden clarity: "Yeah. I do."
Purple looks down—flustered? "…O-oh."
"Is," Red bites the inside of their cheek. "Is that okay?"
Purple chances a glance at Red—something in them seems to relax, then. "Yeah. That's okay."
Red finds themself leaning back, letting out a huff of a laugh. "I'm surprised it's new to you."
"No, no, yeah I—no," Purple chuckles sheepishly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have—done what I have done."
"Ouch."
"Oh, no, I—I mean that I would've—I would've done this better," admits Purple. "I think I would've—" They cut their words off, and the silence of the bathroom gently presses into them. Purple has Red's rapt attention, but Red knows they've been left hanging, waiting for a confession that won't come.
"It was a misunderstanding," Red says. They bump they shoulder against Purple's, and send them a wry little grin. "MIRA will let it slide, I'm sure."
"God, I'm sure," Purple snorts. "Imagine if HR found out about us. Toootal nightmare."
"What even is the workplace relationship policy here?"
"No fucking clue! And who cares?" Purple laughs.
"Yeah, it's not like we were actually dating. Or are. I mean, I could see them coming after our friendship, I guess…"
"They can deal with it," Purple shrugged playfully. "But, I, uh. I actually—I. Well. It's kinda—hard to say? To phrase, but."
Purple looked at Red, who was patient as they waited for Purple to get it together, just—so very and so genuinely interested in what Purple wanted to say, friends or dating. Purple thought it was nice—basic decency, sure, but. Nice.
"I don't know if I reciprocate your feelings," says Purple, "yet. Which is the scary part! I… I didn't want make things weird, but, I went and made things weird anyway, so—hah, to hell with it. I—I just. I feel like I could like you. I don't dislike the thought of liking you. But that's the thing, I don't—I don't wanna let you down, if it turns out I actually don't like you like that. I don't wanna be a waste of your time. So… that's why I'm hesitant to start anything new at all. Because if it gets bad, and frustrating, then feelings get hurt, then that's just hard for everyone. And we basically have to see each other everyday. And—and I couldn't imagine working like that. Working without my best friend."
Red's head is still spinning at I feel like I could like you, but they do hear everything else—and they know that Purple needs them to not be a total lovesick idiot right now, because that last phrase rings just as special in Red's heart.
"You'll never be a waste of time to me," Red blurts out. "And—and, well—you'll never have to worry about that, okay? I like you. As in, I like spending time with you, most of all. We're friends, and I like you, and you're good—a, a good friend. And I care about you. So, whatever you decide to do—? I'm cool with it," Red shoots Purple one of their signature, dazzling smiles: the one that Purple says looks stupid, that makes them snicker. "I-I mean, I hear you, and I would totally be down to go out with you, if you ever decided that you wanted to—" Calm down, Red, you are WAY too eager, not what they need right now! "—but if you don't want to. I'm happy with that."
Purple sighs again, but it's relieved this time; like a jumble of a thread unraveling, then falling to the floor.
"Thank you," says Purple. Earnest. Painfully earnest, that Red wants to crawl up and die, because Purple trusts Red. Then Red realizes, all over again, that they may be sickeningly in love with Purple. "Seriously, really—thank you."
And it's okay.
Red still wants Purple to like them back, still may be desperately falling in love with Purple—but it's okay.
They have time.
It's okay.
"…Can we get up now?" asks Red. "I'm actually really hungry."
"Ugh, yeah—" They both collectively get up, stretching and groaning on instinct as they do. "I haven't had lunch yet either."
"Ah, that makes both of us. A kindred soul!"
"Yeah, because we spent this time not having lunch—together—"
"Using our lunch time to not eat," says Red. "As a unit!"
"Yes, yes, so let's get some damn food. As a unit!!"
"As a team!"
Purple hums in satisfaction, a pleased smile rests on their face. "As a team." They offer a fist to Red, who taps their own against it, giddy as they start to talk about how excited to finally something. Purple barks out a laugh especially when Red's stomach lets out a comical growl—Red's not even embarrassed about it. They're hungry.
"I didn't make you wait that long, did I?!" Purple asks in a tone that begs the ridiculousness of it all; their smile is quite audible.
Red shakes their head in little bursts of motion, eager and grinning and excited. "No!" they laugh. "You were just in time."