Narcissus. (PAINTBRUSH X TROPHY ONE SHOT(?)

Narcissus.

It was a nice and quiet day at Hotel OJ. It was early Summer, and tons of the residents were out and about around the hotel to make the best of the perfect day. Among those residents, there was Trophy and Paintbrush. They had both chosen to stay around the bushes and trees that adorned the hotel. Paintbrush had set up an easel and canvas, and had taken to drawing the delicate greenery of one of the blossoming trees. It was quite a beautiful sight, wonderful to paint. Trophy however, had his camera in his hands instead of around his neck as usual, and was taking pictures of the plants and nature instead of painting it. They were in a comfortable silence, not talking, yet still enjoying the other's presence. Despite their differences, they both had two things in common. They had anger issues that sometimes affected their social life, and they used forms of art to help manage it. While they never really talked too much, they found a sort of… solidarity in each other.

As Paintbrush was painting (pun at first unintended but still accepted), a squirrel ran up the tree they were using as their muse, acorns in mouth. “Wish I could paint ‘em, but they move too fast.” Paintbrush mumbled, moreso to themselves other then Trophy. Trophy paused from his photographing and looked at what Paintbrush was using as inspiration. Truth be told, the squirrel was still there, but itsyhesd constantly jerked around, it's position changing too much for Paintbrush to even attempt to capture it. Trophy looked at the Blonde’s canvas, and it looked like they had moved away from the part of the tree the squirrel had taken to rest at. Looking at it, Trophy saw what Paintbrush meant, the reddish squirrel complimented the soft pinks and whites and greens of the tree nicely, and say strikingly in the middle. When Trophy looked down at his camera again, he had an idea…

*snap*

Trophy took a picture of the squirrel, trying to replicate the perspective the painting tool was at. He then tapped Paintbrush in the shoulder lightly to get their attention. “Huh- …Oh, t-thanks.” Paintbrush said, understanding what trophy wanted them to do. Trophy, however, hadn't heard them, he almodt immediately after handing the picture to them, he spotted one of Clover's butterflies floating around. Jake, he recognized the insect. After a few minutes, the picture Trophy handed them developed, and Paintbrush saw the bright colors and tiny details Trophy’s camera captured. They positioned the image on the top of the easel, and started squeezing and mixing new browns and reds into their pallete. It was actually pretty easy adding it to the painting, they just needed to make sure the surrounding of the squirrel matched up with the image they had been provided. It took some time, but after a bit, the squirrel portion of the painting was considered done by Paintbrush. As they stepped away to fully evaluate their work, they finally realized what Trophy giving them that image meant. Trophy cared for them. I mean, he went out of his way to take that picture for them. He must think something more of them than just an acquaintance. Or maybe, it was just a random act of kindness. Or maybe he just thought the squirrel looked as pretty as Paintbrush thought. Or… Maybe they were overthinking and should just get back to painting.

As they looked at their painting, they remembered that they were almost done with their painting anyways. They had been adding the final details when the squirrel appeared. After a few more final touches, the painting was done. They admired their work, and started to take down the canvas to take to their room to dry. Until they caught a glimpse of Trophy. He had gotten back from Clover at this point, and was now trying to capture the individual berries on a blackberry bush. It had been golden hour, the one hour in a certain day when the sun stained everything a perfect shade of gold. The sunlight bounced off of Trophy's metal exterior, and it shaded his dark brownish-yellow limbs well. And his eyes… his dark brown eyes caught the sunlight, they they swore they felt their heart beat harder. His eyes… oh god his eyes…

“Trophy, uhm, can I draw you? The sun, it uhm,” Paintbrush stumbled over their words, trying to say “You look really pretty in this lighting and I wanna paint you.” without it sounding like they had a crush, because they didn't, “It looks nice on your metal and stuff.” Paintbrush decided to not mention the eyes to him, they didn't want to fall short on words, well, at least more then they already had.