Room 43// An Inanimate Insanity College AU

29- If I Could Ride A Bike

Paintbrush was quite rudely awoken by the sound of a creaking door. Burrowed in what felt like a dozen blankets in the strangely warm room, they tugged them off without hesitation and tugged on their boots as fast as their sleep-ridden, uncoordinated mind would let them.

Just as they walked out of their own room, the main dormitory door shut with a sharp click and a thud. Immediately, their hazy mind went to robbery; did they lock the door last night? Even if they did, it's not unlike Fan or Test Tube to need to head out in the middle of the night for whatever reason.

Absurd possibilities in the back of their mind continued to surface, and so they decided to just go and find the culprit and ask them what the hell they thought they were doing.

When they looked past the empty hallway, there was only a singular person walking away from their dorm. They had an electric blue beanie on, along with a woven jacket so thin Paintbrush could see the threads and stitching from at least five feet away. Their boots clicked behind the stranger, although from the way they were idly staring out into the morning sunrise (was it that early?) They either didn't notice Paintbrush or simply didn't care.

Going down the stairs was a challenge, as their mind still hadn't completely caught up. All they could feel was the sting of frostbite as they kept a firm hand on the metal railings going down to the courtyard.

Paintbrush realized, halfway down the stairwell, that it wasn't a stranger they were tailing; It was Lightbulb. They hadn't noticed, because she was wearing that beanie. It was a very unrealistic clothing choice, considering she would normally never wear something of that variety. Paintbrush mentally kicked themselves for not being able to tell it was her; all that worry for nothing.

Immediately, they considered turning back. Although one look at the tall stairwell made Paintbrush feel sick, and the cool air was nice on their face, so they continued to trail behind anyway. No harm done, right? If it turned out she was a drug dealer or something, Paintbrush would simply turn away and act like they hadn't seen anything.

That's called camaraderie, bitches.

She didn't go to a shady alleyway or any place that could possibly point to drug dealership, however- she went into the art building with a simple scanning of her student ID. Paintbrush didn't even know you could do that, but they brushed it aside for that moment and quietly slipped in behind her.

Lightbulb was preoccupied, cracking her knuckles every few seconds and eyes flitting anywhere that wasn't behind her. Thank the gods for that. She hadn't even noticed Paintbrush not-so-subtly walking behind her, the quiet clicking of their boots hitting the ground sounding loud in comparison to the stark quiet encompassing the campus during the early hours of the morning.

Subverting the subconscious expectations Paintbrush held, Lightbulb took a left away from the Visual Arts room and turned into an entirely different alleyway that Paintbrush was certain they'd been through before, although they couldn't recall when. There was little time to linger on the subject, however, because Lightbulb had ducked into a room and Paintbrush took it upon themselves not to follow her in. They kicked the ground with the toe of their boot and lingered just beside the doorway, out of sight.

A slight creak could be heard from the inside of the room, which Paintbrush now recognized as the music room. They had been there before; they'd gone with Marshmallow once or twice. However, as far as they were aware, Lightbulb couldn't play any instruments. The absurd idea of illegal activity slipped into their mind once again, and then they heard the soft shuffling of papers.

Curiosity killed the cat, they thought, peering into the room lit up with fluorescent lights that looked as if they belonged in a hospital room rather than a music hall. Lightbulb was sitting on the stool in front of the piano, running her fingers over the keys as if she was scared they'd break if she touched them. There were sheets of slightly crumpled paper on the desk of the piano.