Rose-Tinted Lenses - Pt. 2

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You and Spamton stare at each other awkwardly, faces red.

While usually you're the one to come up with a distraction, Spamton's the one to chime in this time.

"...Why does Queen's [[Liddle Pet]] [[ADD TO CART]] you so much? What'd you do?"

"Oh. Oh! Haha, yeah, um..." Caught off-guard, you take a second to think.

"Well, Swatch and I met pretty soon after Queen took me in. I had nothing better to do when I wasn't helping Queen, so I spent a lot of time in the café. I... well, you stayed at the mansion, you should know. You know that thing they do where, if you're alone, a Swatchling will keep you company?" 

"Pfft. Yeah, pity points for the lonely [[Hearts]]. I remember. A lot of my adoring fans ended up at those tables," he crowed proudly.

You try to laugh, but it's awkward and hollow. 

"Haha, well... if that's what you wanna call it, then I was one of those lonely hearts. All the time."

He cringes slightly, acknowledging his mistake, but doesn't apologize. 

"Yeah, so, that. Well, one of the days I was there, the place was pretty understaffed. The Swatchlings were all losing their minds, trying to keep everyone happy. For some reason or another, Swatch ended up playing the role of companion for my table. We got to talking, and over time, Swatch started to join me more often, even when they weren't understaffed. The rest is history, I guess." Thinking about it makes you feel all fluttery inside. Swatch was always so kind to you, and they always made for such fun conversation. 

Spamton scowls.

"It's just because you're a [[LIGHT neR]], I'm [insured]. That [[TRIPLE XXX SHOWGIRLS]] doesn't care about anything unless his [[Mastercard]] tells him to."

You're roughly pulled from your pleasant reverie by his words. You can't understand what you're hearing. The thought of Swatch only spending time with you because you're a Lightner... it stings.

"Spamton, for real? What have you got against him?! I knew there was something going on between you two, but seriously, he's a nice guy! What happened?" 

He ignores you, looking away.

The cloying smell of roses is no longer relaxing, and not having clothing to protect you makes you feel even more uncomfortable. You don't want to be vulnerable, and it makes sense that he wouldn't either. 

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But all I ask is that you at least try to set it aside while he's taking care of us. He could kick us out or worse if he knew."

His tensed shoulders slump a bit.

"...Than^ks."

You don't acknowledge him, but at least the conversation's settled for now.

You sit in that uncomfortable silence for a while. When you realize that the water's doing nothing to ease your nerves, only pruning up your fingers, you figure that it's time to get properly washed up.

You turn and lean up on the side of the pool, reaching for the tray of bath supplies. You find those luxury soaps again.

Trying to lighten the mood, you call out to Spamton. 

"Which soap do you think I should use? Pottery Wheel or New Car Smell?" 

He doesn't respond, but you hear water splashing as he comes closer.

"Ooh, this one's supposed to smell like those glow-in-the-dark wrist bands at raves," you tack on. "But that probably wouldn't appeal to you, would it, mister Big Spender?"

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