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It had been days since your first encounter with your neighbor, Facty.
You no longer had reckless floundering of footsteps outside your apartment door, and you thought that was because of Facty’s promise. You were finally at peace!
Because of that, since then, you have had actual sleep after months of restless nights. You were no longer temper-fueled, and you were back to baking goods in peace.
You silently thanked Facty for the leftover sticks of butter and containers of cream cheese. You were no longer spending extra for the next few weeks.
You had to thank your new acquaintance somehow, but didn't know how. Maybe baking them a few receptacles of pastries? Surely that would be great to show your gratitude, but it wouldn't be enough. You needed a way to express your gratitude more… maybe taking them out for dinner? No, that would've been too much. They'd think you were asking them on a date when it was actually a simple dinner out.
Were dinners with acquaintances always so romantic in a pin point view? Why were dinners romantic anyway? It probably depended on the restaurant's ambience, you thought.
What’s good to do during night outs? Or going anywhere at night in general?
And that's when the idea hit you. You knew exactly where you two were going, and you couldn't wait to see their face when you invited them!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ — ⎚-⎚ — ⋆˚࿔
With an aluminium tin filled with freshly baked cinnamon rolls coated in one of your most favorite custard glazes mixed with vanilla bean, you walked up to their apartment with the pastry in your hands.
You were glad their apartment was only a few feet away, because if you had to manage the strength your arms were displaying in order to handle the cinnamon rolls, you were sure you'd wake up with sore arms tomorrow.
Knocking on the apartment door, you waited patiently for the entrance to open.
You adjusted the position of the cinnamon rolls in your hands. It wasn't a few seconds until the door had finally opened, and you were met with a mysterious person having a light bulb as a head. Your eyes enlarged at the sight displayed in front of you for your bare, naked eyes to see.
This must be one of Facty's friends.
Months ago, you'd memorized exactly how many footsteps scuffled about outside your apartment door, and came up with a solution. You guessed 3, including Facty.
You had always thought Facty and his friends were a bit… odd. But you never knew that they were THIS weird. Especially being friends with otherworldly looking creatures. How does he have a lightbulb as his friend? And why is that lightbulb even talking? HOW do you befriend that thing?
You were immediately shot out of your thoughts from the sound of Facty’s deep voice. “What's going on?”
Their eyes immediately met yours at once. They directed the lightbulb guy standing behind the doorframe, eyes meeting each other, both shared a deep conversation, with Facty saying *‘I could handle this.’*
With the lightbulb guy gone, Facty redirected himself onto your gaze once more. “Sorry about that, haha! That's my friend and roommate, Lighty. You guys haven't met before, especially Martian, who's my other friend and roommate.”
You smiled at the guy. How could you not? They looked so innocent.
Your eyes roamed their frame once you noticed the situation. Were they and their friends painting?
Facty's royal blue shirt had been splattered with blotches of different colored paint. He had a patch of glitter on his left cheek, roaming down to his jaw towards his neck. His pants were covered in green and blue pigmentation, and his hair was more disheveled than the last encounter you ensued with him.
Facty had noticed you staring at them for an unusual amount of time. Their Adam’s apple bobbed from the realization that they were under *your* stare. The heat was quickly replaced by embarrassment when they realized the situation of a mess they were in. You were studying them because their appearance was untidy!
When you noticed that you've stared at them for too long, you immediately withdrew your gaze, clearing your throat to lighten up the matter of the situation.
“Uhm, I'm so sorry for that. It's just…” your words trailed off when Facty shook their head as if to say *’No worries.’*
“Me and my friends were painting. Every weekend we usually do bonding time where we participate in different activities to broaden our horizon of hobbies. You're good,” they verbalized. You no longer felt admonished for staring at them for too long.
“Well, uhm, I'd like to courteously give this to you. An expression of gratitude for the amount of dairy you've given me,” confidently handing them the aluminum tin of cinnamon rolls, the aroma of the pastry instantly lifted, wafting into his nose. Their face immediately brightening up once their gaze took sight of the cinnamon rolls exhibited in front of them.
“Ah! Thank you! I appreciate this very much. They look so good!” Taking the pastry out of your arms with surprising strength, they led you inside the door frame—stepping aside so you could enter. Facty took this opportunity to close the door once you allowed yourself in.
“So, Facty, gifting you the cinnamon rolls wasn't the only thing that I'm expressing my gratitude with. How would you feel if I invited you to the festival taking place in our county tonight?” Placing your elbow on the countertop just right in front of the kitchen, you place your chin on the palm of your hand, awaiting their answer with an expectant smirk.
Facty pivoted from his heels, wiping their now clean hands with a white towel. “That would be so lovely! Of course I'd love to go. When are we going?” They pushed their glasses back, diving a hand on the tin to pick up a cinnamon roll.
“Maybe around 7:35. How about that? It's gonna be hot at night, though, so I kindly suggest that wearing clothes fit for the summer weather would be expected.”
“Yeah, sure! That would work. I have a lot of summer clothes, so I'm glad I have the chance to actually wear them.”
“Great, then! I'll see you later, m’kay?” You promoted yourself away from the countertop. “Enjoy the cinnamon rolls.”
Facty swallowed the last of the pastry they were munching on. “Of course! And thanks for the cinnamon rolls!” He called out to your retreating figure, and you simply waved goodbye as you walked away, heading towards the front door of the apartment.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ — ⎚-⎚ — ⋆˚࿔
For the most part, you look good. But as you stared at yourself in the mirror longer, you weren't so sure about your outfit anymore. Was it too inappropriate? Too revealing?
Underneath your tight, white, sleeveless shirt was a black push-up bra, accentuating your open cleavage. Not only that, but your legs felt a little bare from the shorts. Were they too short? It made your hips look good, but it would definitely attract a few stares. Your shoes were definitely new, so at least you had something to feel good about.
You had no time to change out, though, because after you placed the last necessary contents inside your shoulder bag, you heard a knock coming from your apartment door.
“Coming!” You shouted, rushing towards the entrance before briefly opening the passageway into your apartment.
You were met with Facty standing outside your door frame. His outfit looked good. You couldn't stop yourself from staring. This guy had actually brushed their hair this time. Not only that, you couldn't help but stare at their chest for a little longer.
They wore a grey-blue linen button up shirt which showed their collarbone, and long loose white cotton shorts. The brand of shoes they were wearing was just the same as yours.
This was different; they were no longer wearing the same usual vibrant clothing you had grown accustomed to.
Facty made sure to digest everything displayed in front of them. You were a treasure. They couldn't help but gaze longer at your outfit… they weren’t always like this. What made you so appealing to them? Why do you look so beautiful? And why can they feel their face heat up?
The atmosphere was thick and heavy with something uncalled for. Facty's head was rising with questions, things they wouldn't like to admit, and facts that were useful if this were to escalate. (Which would definitely not… hopefully?)
It took a while since you two broke out of your analyzing gapes.
Facty cleared their throat, in hopes to lighten up the dampened situation. “I guess we should get going?”
You nodded, heat flushing your cheeks with shame. This will never be brought up again.
The festival was filled with many. You were thankful Facty had provided you two with transportation, because you were seriously running out of gas.
The place smelt seriously delicious. Varieties of aromas swirling with different flavors of food—making sure that it hit you once you walked through the entrance. Screams coming from amusing and exciting rides had rushed in your ears, and loud music, atop of the shrieking, played from the distance.
You looked at Facty, and it's apparent they too were experiencing the thrill of it all.
“This is my first time out with anybody but my friends.” You heard him say beside you, awe filling his gaze with excitement for the experience ahead.
“Where should we go first, then?” You ask the man who was entranced by the drop tower.
And quickly enough, you two head for the drop tower named ‘Butterfly Master,’ and the sudden fear of it all crippled up to your stomach. You sucked your breath in, not wanting to ruin the experience of your acquaintance.
The Butterfly Master embodied the butterflies that would soon transform in your stomach when you ride. It had spiral patterns of a candy cane painted until the top of the cylinder which held the seats. It spun the people that were mounted securely on it.
“That looks so cool!” Facty approved, and you had to force yourself to agree. You were getting pale, and your breaths quickly began shallowing.
You could've already felt the drop in your stomach.
Maybe the festival wasn't a good idea.
-
Facty patted your back as they held your hair up in a secure manner, making sure it doesn't fall in front of your face. You puked to your heart’s content, holding the paper bag the ride mechanic gave you. Again, appreciative of Facty asking him for it.
“That's alright. There, there. You could have told me you didn't want to ride the drop tower. I could’ve chosen a different one,” they winced at the sound of your groans. “Let's get a bottle of water. That'll help.”
-
You and Facty began riding the other rides after that. Throwing away the bottled water they bought for you, you were able to succumb to the pain of the rides. Grounding yourself to reality wasn't quick, but Facty made sure you did.
After a couple of rides or so, you two were able to find an empty table in the food court.
Filling your stomachs instantly, you immediately suggested ice cream as dessert, and Facty quickly delved into accepting the decision.
You settled for vanilla bean and Facty picked mint chocolate chips.
Peace ensued, and you loved the night you had brought to you two. The festival was a good idea after all.
…
That was until you were met with someone you have not seen in a very, very long time.
“Ooh, who's this cutie?”
Facty looked at the woman standing in front of them, pleading with you for help. The man wasn't used to women.
The woman standing in front of you, looking at your friend, Facty, was none other than your ex-best friend.