Room 43// An Inanimate Insanity College AU

39- Hey Girl, is it Your Birthday?? Because I got Balloons

Paintbrush feels like their heart is two seconds away from beating right out of their chest.

There was one coherent thought that they'd had all morning, taking buses and trains out of their town and into a new one; this is a bad idea.

Unluckily for them, their subconscious doesn't know how to stop them. After taking three hours out of their morning in a stifling suit and holding a bundle of balloons with their crab's face on it, they were standing in front of Lightbulb's house.

Once again, the thought occurred to them. This is a bad idea. Once again, that thought was ignored as Paintbrush looked up at the wide lens images of Baxter, printed onto rubber balloons filled with helium, bobbing just over Paintbrush's head. Lightbulb had to see them. The fact that it was her birthday had nothing to do with this. At all.

This also wasn't an elaborate excuse for Paintbrush to see her again. That would be silly.

...Yeah.

They never went to prom back in high school- they're kind of glad for the fact, since Yang apparently lit the place on fire- but they imagined that this is what waiting for your date would feel like, dressed up at their door with a gift, contemplating whether or not you should just rip off the band-aid and knock or ring the bell.

Hell, Paintbrush considered buying a bouquet of flowers from the train station stall that appeared to be recently set up. They ended up leaving the flowers behind, though; Lightbulb didn't deserve them, honestly.

If only their sarcasm didn't translate into their thoughts.

"This is fucking ridiculous," They muttered, taking a step forward and knocking on the door. They'd never had to second-guess something like this before, and Lightbulb wasn't going to make them start.

For a second, Paintbrush considered the possibility of someone else answering the door and having to sheepishly explain themselves- that was, until, they heard Lightbulb yell "I'll get it!" From inside, feet screeching against the hardwood floors of her hallway.

Paintbrush hit the porch with the toe of their shoe, looking down as the door creaked open. Lightbulb was most definitely the person at the door, Paintbrush could tell that without even looking up- she was the only person they knew who wore odd socks every occasion she saw fit- and yet she hadn't said a word. Out of character, definitely.

Once they finally gained the courage to look up, Lightbulb's shocked face brought out a slight chuckle. "Um. Hi?" They said, smiling at the girl in front of them.

Before Paintbrush could say another word- or, perhaps, rush to explain themselves- there were heavy, stable and warm arms wrapped around their shoulders. Lightbulb's head made its way between the crook of their neck and their shoulder. Without another thought, Paintbrush wrapped their arms around her in return, no words to explain the feeling but warm, warm, warm.

"What are you doing here?" Lightbulb asked, not sounding at all mad about the fact that they'd arrived. Paintbrush couldn't even remember, honestly; they couldn't think of anything but the fact that Lightbulb was right in front of them for the first time in god knows how long.

Then they felt the sensation of their fingernails digging into their palm, hand fisted around a bunch of ribbons and ropes. The tug of stiff fabric around their arms, the knot of a tie pressed against their throat. It came back to them suddenly, and their mind swam. "It's your birthday," Paintbrush said, choking to get the words out. "I wasn't gonna miss it, was I?"

Lightbulb burrowed herself further into their arms, buzzing with energy and emotion. Or maybe that was just Paintbrush. They weren't sure- they didn't even really care.