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It’s been a few hours since Lightbulb had seen Paintbrush. It usually wouldn’t be that concerning to her, Painty being one who took their time with recharging their social battery. But earlier, when she last saw them, they seemed disgruntled. And more disgruntled than their usual self, they seemed… unstable. Yeah, that’d be a good way to put it.
Their absence was starting to make Lightbulb grow antsy. She shot up from the couch and began to pace the living room, thinking of how to approach this. The two haven’t been dating for long at all, so she hasn’t really come across a situation like this yet. Sure, she dealt with their mood swings before, but they were just friends at that point. This was different. Way different. And maybe it shouldn’t be, she found herself pondering. Maybe it should be addressed the same way? But what would she know? Maybe they truly did just want to be alone, but she had a feeling that wasn’t it.
‘I’m totally not clingy for just checking up on them, right?’ She mentally asked herself, paused in her pacing to think about this.
‘…Nah. I mean, if I were Painty - which I’m not, duh - but if I WERE them, I think I’d want some company. Yeah! For sure!’
…
‘Also because I miss them. Okay, maybe it’s a teensy bit clingy. But I won’t know unless I try!’
Halting her mental feud with herself, she slowly tiptoed her way to Paintbrush’s room, careful as to not make any sudden sounds. To be honest, she wasn’t the best at being subtle about… well, anything, so this would have to do for the time being.
A few moments passed as she stood outside their door, wondering how she should knock. Or if she should even knock at all? If they wanted to see her, maybe they would’ve just come out of their room. Maybe they really did want to be alone.
But a voice spoke from the other side of the door as her confidence faltered. A weak, strained and uncharacteristically soft voice just above a whisper, with just a hint of amusement that always shone through whenever it involved Lightbulb’s antics.
“I know you’re there.”
She wasn’t expecting that. They didn’t even sound annoyed, or anything. Just… defeated. Worry finally began to really set in. Lightbulb has witnessed Paintbrush in a sad state before, but never one like this. Silence hung in the air for a second as she grasped for how to respond.
“Can.. can I come in?”
In reply, she heard their bed creak, followed by trudging footsteps that got louder until they reached the door, which was slowly creaked open ever-so-slightly. They failed to make eye contact with her, looking down at their floor with a stuffed animal grasped in their hands.
Together, they both went back to their bed and sat there in silence, neither knowing quite what to say. It was clear as day to Lightbulb that Paintbrush hated being vulnerable in front of anyone, even their partner. So she decided not to address it immediately. Instead, her focus shifted to the stuffed animal in Paintbrush’s hands. It was a small, beige dog with a black and orange bandana around its neck. They noticed that this caught Lightbulb’s attention and gently smiled, wiping their face a little bit.
“Tell anyone about this and you’re dead,” they joked with a bit of a shaky breath as they tried to collect themselves. Lightbulb lightly chuckled, relieved that they were at least okay enough to make their usual sassy jabs. She readjusted herself. “No, it’s not like that! I just never really took you as someone who cared for that stuff…”
They raised a brow and folded their arms.
“Not in that way- it’s cute! I like it.. I have a few too. Does it, uhm.. have a name?” She felt a bit stupid asking, but all of hers had names.
“Sandy,” they mumbled, their cheeks flushing up a bit with embarrassment. Lightbulb, however, found this the most adorable thing on the planet. Paintbrush must’ve seen her eyes light up, because they blushed even harder when they looked up at her and immediately looked away again.
But they were smiling, so it was a win in Lightbulb’s eyes.
They sat in what was now comfortable silence instead of a tense one for a few moments.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” Lightbulb asked, throwing Paintbrush a bit off guard. They blinked rapidly and squinted, trying to process what she asked for a moment. They still weren’t all the way there at the moment, but Lightbulb patiently awaited their response.
“Sorry, it’s just… there isn’t much to say. I was in a good mood, and then I got angry again and then I just…” they sighed, rubbing their arm absently. “Started hating myself. Again. A-and then it just started to spiral and get worse and worse until I just- couldn’t handle how much I was feeling anymore!”
Lightbulb’s heart ached for her partner, and it clearly showed on her face because their face soured to immediate regret for dumping that all onto her.
“Sorry. I know that’s a lot. You aren’t my therapist and I shouldn’t treat you like-“
“Painty,” Lightbulb interjected. She reached her hand to their face and they immediately melted into her touch, comfort washing over them. They closed their eyes and leaned into her. Although this caught her by surprise, not used to seeing them so vulnerable, she continued. “That’s what I’m here for; you. I love you. I love the bossy Painty, the sarcastic Painty, and yeah, even the sometimes mean Painty! But I know you’re working on it, and everyone can see it and everyone is proud of you.”
Paintbrush’s watery eyes flew open, a new glimmer in them that she hasn’t seen today. She didn’t even know they could look so pleasantly surprised. “Really?” They uttered softly. Lightbulb nodded. “Yep, really!”
They squinted, almost as if they didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”
“Why would I lie about that?” She giggled. “What’s this? The almighty Paintbrush cares about what others think about them?” Lightbulb jabbed lightly with a smug grin.
“Duh?? Why wouldn’t they?” They responded, a bit confused at the implications but definitely not taking it harshly as they laughed along with her.
“…Thanks. Sorry you had to see me like, uh..” Paintbrush did a dramatic gesture with their hands, largely sighing. “Like THAT.”
Lightbulb rolled her eyes playfully. “Eh, I’ve seen worse.”
Paintbrush let out a theatrical offended gasp, or as close to one as they could right now. “We do not speak of season two Paintbrush! It’s in the contract.”
The two began to laugh together. Lightbulb was pretty certain there was more on their mind, but seeing them at least this much better was good enough for now. Her laughing died down and she got up from the bed.
“Come on. Get up, I’m making cookies. Then after that, if you want to talk more about it, you can, but no pressure okay?” She held her hand out to help them up. Paintbrush
smiled warmly, the biggest smile she’s seen from them in a while.
“Sounds good,” they agreed, as they took her hand.