Work Text:
Red was feeling frustrated.
Not angry, frustrated.
At what? He doesn't even know, maybe he's frustrated with the world and everything in it, maybe he's frustrated because he got his shirt dirty. It was a gamble every time.
So what did he do? Sculpt of course!
Red set down some clay on his desk and quickly found his rhythm as he got to work, although he still let his brain run.
Ever since Red moved into the Village, he started feeling way more.. how shall he put it..
Complicated.. feelings.
Back when he lived alone and secluded, it was easy. He knew what his role was and so did the rest. Even though deep down he never truly liked being the angry hermit, it was easy. He didn't have anybody to particularly care for, plus being alone really helped him hone his artist skills.
But now.. now he has friends, genuine friends that he can talk to, laugh with and hang out with. He has Chuck and Bomb.
..And now he feels a whole array of new emotions bombarding him all at once.
Usually he'd just let it go, pass it off as some sickness and go about his quaint and easy life.
But life never really was easy for him, was it?
Look at him, acknowledging his own past again. Matilda would be proud. And sad. But not sad sad, like happy sad. Eugh, she'd probably start tearing up too..
Red stopped his train of thoughts only to realise that he finished the sculpture, has he always been this fast when working?
He stares down at his work and rolls his eyes in embarassment, did he really just make a flower?
.. Red is starting to think a certain somebody is at fault for his frustration.
It all started back when he and Chuck went on a hike, to go foraging or something? Red didn't exactly remember the finer details.
What he does remember is Chuck suddenly running up ahead in a flash of yellow, leaving Red in the dust (both metaphorically and physically).
Red quickly ran to catch up with him, having some choice words on the tip of his tongue for Chuck's sudden departure. However, he lost his words when he eventually caught up to the other.
Chuck had somehow managed to find a bird of paradise, not to mention a narrow-leaved bird of paradise. Weren't those ones really rare? How did he spot one?
The yellow bird was crouched down beside it, looking back at Red with that smile of his that could replace the sun with it's brightness. Or so Red thinks, don't listen to him, he thinks all kinds of things these days.
"Sorry for leaving you back there, I just got wayy too excited to show you this!" Chuck chuckled (hah), patting the grass beside him as a silent order of 'get over here!'.
Red sighed and crouched down beside him, looking down at the plant.
"I found it while jogging through here, isn't it pretty?" The yellow bird questioned, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
.. It was pretty, the orange really made it pop.
"Well duh, of course it's.." Red trailed off as he turned to look at Chuck.
For some reason, the spotted sunlight seemed to hit the yellow bird's face just perfectly. It almost felt like he was staring at a living portrait for a moment, and his heart spun.
"..Pretty." He mumbled to himself.
He let his gaze linger for a quiet moment before he snapped out of it and stiffly moved his eyes away from both the flower and his friend all together.
Red isn't getting soft, he's not soft. He's never going to be soft.
"I know you were looking at me." Chuck replied.
"No I wasn't."
"Yes you were."
"I was not looking at you."
"Oh, you were totally looking at me."
"I was not looking at you!"
"It's the hair isn't it? I knew my hair looked fabulous, well it's fabulous every day-"
"Ughh, i'm leaving." Red set the basket down as he stood up with a groan, suddenly not in the mood for one of Chuck's spontaneous rambles.
Chuck looked up at Red confused as he stumbled over his words, "Where- are you leaving right now? Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because- Because ugh!"
Red desperately wanted to kick past him for leaving like that, what was he some moody teenager?
..Well, he's closer to a teenager than a full grown adult.
He rolled his eyes to himself as he thought about his interaction with his close friend once more, fingers tracing over the drying clay.
Chuck didn't deserve that, he's gonna have to apologise for that. Later. Not now, he's not ready yet.
Looking out of his window, Red could see the town still bustling like it was daytime even though it was a rather cold evening for such a tropical place. He's been getting shivers a lot more these days for some reason..
"I wish I could just.. learn how to be 'normal'." Red muttered to himself, looking at all the birds passing by.
Chuck and Bomb mean a lot to him, they stuck with him through thick and thin. They deserve somebody who they can rely on too, somebody they can trust with their whole heart. Not some.. screw up artist who constantly resorts to anger as his first defense.
He'll try, for them.
Red chuckled to himself, as if he just heard a funny joke, "Man.. I seriously need to get myself in order. Look at me, i'm even talking to myself now."
Red's smile suddenly fell as he looked back at the dried sculpture of a flower. His heart beating ridiculously as the image of Chuck flashed in his mind once more.
He slapped a hand over his forehead and dragged it down his entire face, "Stop it, Red."
But his heart didn't dare stop as it kept pumping fast.
Red stood up from his chair and gave a heavy sigh, making his way over to the nest.
He'll deal with this situation later, probably.