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Everything suddenly felt so simple. The stress of tasks no longer existed. Who cared about security when you could be eating pizza instead? Purple slumps against the kitchen wall slowly consuming pizza that was actually dough with tomato sauce poorly applied over the top. Everything was simple enough for Purple to not feel stressed at the sight of Red who stumbled into the kitchen, staring widely with their visor. As if they were happy to see them. Purple sighs as Red stumbles further, before finally slumping down next to them, half dressed and incoherent.
"Why aren't you with them?" Purple gazes out the window at the rest of the crew rolling around.
"'Cause they're not you," Red pokes Purple in the side.
"They're not me?" Purple repeats, squinting now.
"Yeah, they're not you," Red confirms.
"I have never felt so peaceful," Purple states, watching Red's hand.
"No wonder you've never felt so peaceful," Red laughs a little, raising their hand. Instead, they poke the side of Purple's face.
"What do you mean by that?" Purple glances back at their visor.
"You're so, so, so, uptight…" Red explains, their voice more a slur. Purple's visor narrows when Red pokes them every other word.
"Why do you think I'm uptight?" Purple remarks. "Someone needs to be uptight. I'm practically the second in command when all you do is walk around, repeat everything I say or suggest and then take credit for it. If you won't do your job as Captain, I'll be the Head of Security and Captain of the Skeld."
Red gasps, retracting their hand and pressing it to their chest. "Take that back."
"I don't," Purple points to themselves.
"Take it back, now."
"No."
"I'm telling you as your captain."
"There is no value in your words."
"What? No. Just take it back."
"I won't."
They both continue back and forth until Purple stuffs themselves with pizza, looking away and refusing to speak. Red watches them, their visor growing larger and watery. How could they not value their words? They are the Captain of the Skeld. They had great ideas. They did almost everything MIRA approved. They weren't annoying about it in the way Orange was, either. They followed the Captain's guide and then also took inspiration from Purple's words. They wanted Purple on the ship. They could not bear the thought of them not being there. Not after what happened as interns.
"Do you still think I'm bad with words?" Red asks, leaning over Purple's shoulder. Trying to meet the gaze of their visor. Any way to study their expression. Any way of knowing that they didn't think so little of them.
Purple glances over their shoulder, only to be met with Red's gaze. Their visor flickers with hope. Purple falters and shakes their head. Looking away, unable to meet such a hopeful gaze, Purple begins to regret their actions. They couldn't bring themselves to hear everything that Red had to say. They had known for a while that these emotions between them were not purely that of co-workers. It was clearly more when Red always tried to seek them out. When Red tried their hardest to get Purple a job. When Red always had their hands on them. When Red did not understand the concept of personal space. But Purple could not even bear the thought of being wrong about all of it. About what MIRA had to say about it. About what their own feelings for Red could entail. It was easier to ignore Red than admit to feeling anything for them.
"You think I'm that bad with words?" Red asks again, speaking with something that sounded like a half sob. "I could be so good with words. I could do that for you. I could be good for you, Purps. I could be the Bard."
Purple chokes on the pizza dough and half turns over to Red, only to be completely turned by Red's hands. Unable to speak, Red continues instead. "Don't you know how much I would do for you? I wanted you on The Skeld because you're my… my something. You might not want to call me your friend, but you're my everything. I knew from the moment I met you all that time ago—you're the most beautiful individual I have laid my eyes on."
Purple stares at Red. Their visor was narrowed with determination, but threatening to spill with more tears. Nonetheless, Red stared at them as if they had hung the moon and every star in the sky. Red stared at them absolutely meaning the words they had just admitted to. When Purple glances down at the remaining pizza in their hand, considering also consuming it, so that they could not respond, Red panics and slaps it away. They glance between the pizza now discarded on the floor and the hesitant expression on Purple's face.
"You didn't like my words, did you?" Red cries in defeat, lowering their head against Purple's lap, hands grasping their waist. "You prefer that pizza over me!"
Purple hesitates, but when Red's muffled sobs grow louder and they shake harder, they press a hand to their back, the other to the side of their face. They slowly wipe Red's tears away.
"I don't prefer pizza over you, Redsie," Purple slowly admits.
"You don't?" Red stares up, blinking with tears in their visor.
"No," Purple confirms.
"Then why didn't you answer?" Red's voice wavers again.
"Well, it's just that—I'm the one who's bad with words," Purple sighs. "And I don't know what's happening right now—because I feel weird and I'm assuming you're feeling weird—but if I don't say it or always express it… I do like you."
"I'm not bad with words?" Red's visor tears up again, this time not from sadness.
"No," Purple gently answers. "You're the Bard."
"Not just a Captain," Red brightens, sitting up slightly. "Also the Bard."
"Are you feeling better?" Purple asks, half certain that Red's ego was back.
"Since the other Bard was so good at romantic plays," Red takes Purple's hand into their own. Their visor narrows with determination again. "How about I show you how good I am at being romantic?"
"Romantic?" Purple repeats, hesitating. They glance at the others out the window again, hoping nobody would notice. "What about the others…"
"Shh," Red presses a finger against Purple's visor. "Don't worry about them."
"Okay…" Purple agrees, looking back at Red.
Purple watches Red's act of confidence break down again, just for a moment, only replaced with pure elation at the fact that they agreed. Purple strokes the side of their face again, their gaze also softening at the sight of them. Red leans in and initiates the kiss, their visor closing against Purple's. Purple feels Red guide them to the floor, but their hands remain nervous, searching various places to hold. Purple presses back into the kiss, reciprocating until they broke it off. Instead, they press a smaller series of kisses across Red's visor and face, watching their expression grow more uneasy with passion. Red leans down, halfway through undoing Purple's tie, and the kitchen door opens.
Both Red and Purple stare up with wide visors, caught in a compromising position by Yellow.
"Hey that's where you guys went—" Yellow pauses at the door, then their visor narrows.
Red unceremoniously unravels themself from Purple, trying to fix their clothes in the process. "As your captain, you saw nothing—"
"Oh, nothing?" Yellow grasps the door for stability. "It looks like you're both the lonely unmarried crew mates who are definitely doing their tasks."
"We are doing our tasks," Purple fixes their tie and stumbles out of the room, nearly falling in the process. "I'm going to go and fix… something…"
"I don't think Brown and I will be the only ones in a union soon," Yellow remarks as Red watches Purple go.
"Shut—shut up," Red points a finger at Yellow as they get to the threshold, then softens again. "Purple thinks I'm the Bard."
Everyone else watches as their captain emerges from the kitchen, looking completely undone but happy. Whatever the oxygen deprivation had done to them, they both didn't seem to mind.