OSC Short Stories!! (NO REQUESTS AS OF NOW)

put your hands in the holes of my sweater (lightbrush hurt with comfort/fluff)

It was pretty snowy for November. Lightbulb loved the snow. She'd run around, build snowmen, drag Painty out to sledding and making snow angels. You know, normal Lightbulb stuff.

Today was not normal, not for Lightbulb. Today was different, and not a good kind of different.

Today, she was staying in her hotel room, huddled into her blanket. Today she had been trying too hard to be her normal cheery Lightbulb self, and it all had cracked in one moment. Today she was crying.

She pulled her knees closer into her chest as she fought the tears that were seeping out of her eyes. She was supposed to be the happy one, the one who everyone relied on when they were feeling down. She couldn't let anybody see her like this. Especially not..

Lightbulb couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She scrambled into her bed and sobbed convulsively, tears staining the bright yellow pillowcase.

She didn't know why she always had to be like this. Such a failure, a terrible excuse of a leader. Everyone would be better without her, everyone secretly hated her, she was so annoying, so stupid, so ugly, so pathetic so worthless so unhelpful.

Eventually, Lightbulb stopped crying. She got up and trudged to the bathroom. She squinted when she turned on the light to gaze at the mess staring back in the mirror.

Then she heard a knock at the door. She recognized that knock. It was the special one that she and Paintbrush had made up for themselves.

Paintbrush. Just saying their name in her head made Lightbulb's stomach flutter a bit.

Even if she was a mess, she knew they wouldn't mind. Carefully, as if it was made of glass, Lightbulb opened the door.

Paintbrush stood somewhat awkwardly in the hallway. "Uh..can I..come in?" Lightbulb hesitated. Why was she hesitating? She loved NO- LIKED. WAS FOND OF. ENJOYED BEING AROUND Paintbrush.

She nodded, silently letting them in.

Paintbrush walked in, observing the dismal-looking room. They knew something was off about Lightbulb today. "Hey, Lightbulb? You look kinda..I don't know..upset. What the matter, huh?" They sat on her bed and patted their hand on the space next to them, a gesture for her to sit down.

Lightbulb plopped herself down next to Paintbrush.

She never was good at speaking her true feelings. She would bottle everything up inside until she couldn't take it anymore, and then she would crack, and then she would feel like shit and bottle everything up again. With anyone else, she would have simply said she was alright, nothing to worry about, she just needed a rest..

But Paintbrush wasn't anyone else. They were..special.

As if the tears had never really dried from her eyes, Lightbulb began to cry again.

This time, however, she had a shoulder to cry on.

Paintbrush hugged Lightbulb tightly, as if they would never let go. They felt her hands climb up the sleeves of their sweater, and they closed their eyes and stroked the back of her head. "It's ok to cry Lightbulb.." They didn't have much to say. All they could do was hug her tighter, hold her closer to their heart.

Maybe..maybe that was what she needed. To feel close to someone, for once.

Before she knew it, she had poured out all her pain, all her sadness, into the heart of the only one she truly loved.

Lightbulb looked up into the warm eyes of Paintbrush. She shivered a bit. Maybe because she was cold, or because she had just cried her eyes out.

Paintbrush gazed into her eyes curiously. Without speaking, they took off their sweater. "Here," they said, handing her the sweater. "You can have this. You seem cold."

Lightbulb gazed into their eyes. "Th-Thank you.." she murmured. She hesitated a bit before purring on the dark brown sweater.

Paintbrush smiled. They let go of Lightbulb and walked off to the door.

"Hey..Painty?" Lightbulb called out, her voice slightly quivering. She wasn't cold..why was she still shaky?

"Hm?" They turned around and were stunned to see her suddenly standing in front of them.

"Thank you.." She was saying it again, but nothing wrong with that.

Paintbrush smiled. "Hey, it- it was no problem.." They leaned over her face and brushed their lips over her forehead, then turned around, unlocked the door, and were gone as suddenly as they had come (closing the door behind them, of course).

Lightbulb plopped herself down where Painty had just sat. She lifted her arm up to her face. She could still pick up their familiar scent.

Lightbulb lay down, and as she felt herself falling asleep, she smiled, a real, genuine smile.