Takes place after ii season 2 ep 15; i'll try to carry on a narrative and story but this fanfic is really just something to work on when I get bored lol.
Characters aren't mine, all characters are from inanimate insanity and belong to Adam Katz
Paintbrush pulls lightbulb away from them for a moment, looking at her now half-open eye.
"Oh my fucking god, you're ok!!"
Lightbulb still in their arms, they stand up, spinning around and collapsing on lightbulb's bed. She chuckled, feeling dizzy in their grasp.
"I'm just fiiine painty, I told you not to worryy.." she murmured in between laughs.
"No, you're not doing alright. You look horrible, and there's still glass everywhere!" They set her down, letting go for a moment.
"I've never seen you look this tired before either. Wait, can your light even turn on anymore?"
Lightbulb flickers, her light far more dim than before.
"That's...not good." Paintbrush sighs and puts a hand up to her face (or what's left of it), running their finger around the edge of her broken glass.
"What's up with ya being so worried anyways? Mephone'll just revive me anyways."
"Lightbulb, you dumbass...you're not in the game anymore, or even on contestant grounds. What if he doesn't get the notification?"
Lightbulb sat their in thought, repeating their words in her head. She wasn't used to valuing her own life, as odd as that may sound. All her life she's had the privilege to come back after death again and again, since she had competed in every season (she knew of). Plus, being reckless was, well, her!
Paintbrush pulled her closer with her head over their shoulder, as lightbulb's filament heated up, bringing her dim light to a vibrant, fuzzy glow.
She suddenly felt at ease, despite the bitter bite of the autumn cold, she felt warm and cozy in their arms - upon second thought however, having a broken bulb on and leaning against very flammable wood wasn't a very good idea. So, lightbulb sat up, pulling herself away from paintbrush's arms.
"I ahah...just realised I probably shouldn't do that, I don't wanna set you on fire, or anything."
Lightbulb already missed their touch, but she didn't wanna risk setting her best friend ablaze. She'd try to turn off her light to avoid that hazard entirely, but her face would just light up whenever she got nearby Paintbrush. Both literally and metaphorically.
"Ah, alright then..well, is there anything I can get you at least? Food, Tea, even Baxter?"
"Hmm...a large mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream, sprinkles, a drizzle of caramel, dash of cinnamon, chocolate chips, candy canes stuck to the sides aaaandd to top it off, crushed up oreos and a cherry on t-"
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"I'm just making you a simple hot chocolate with the instant powder in the kitchen."
Paintbrush cuts her off and states bluntly. They wanted to help, not take a Starbucks order.
Lightbulb looked at them without a word, just a sad eye and furrowed brow.
"...fine, I'll see if there's whipped cream in the fridge. But that's it, I don't wanna spoil you." Paintbrush sighed as they left the room.
"Heh, always works.." lightbulb snickered, kicking her feet. Always works on Paintbrush, at least. Half of the time.
Out of the blue however, she felt light-headed and dizzy. Not horribly, but enough to make her have to stop moving and just lay still for a while. As she did so, she felt even more drowsy, before drifting off to sleep.
___________________
Lightbulb woke up in a cold sweat. Her mouth was dry and she felt awfully cold. It was then she realised the room was also dark. Dang it, probably slept for way too long...
Tapping the side of her glass, the light flickers, illuminating the area around her. She didn't bother to check the time, but must've been somewhat late considering baseball was fast asleep on the other side of the room.
A deep pang of loneliness set in the longer she sat up in the room however, remembering what happened earlier that evening.
She didn't even get to see Paintbrush come back afterwards! The grip of the cold atmosphere only complimented her sorrowful mood.
Turning to the side however, she noticed something. A tall red mug, sat on her nightstand, topped with whipped cream, cinnamon, sprinkles, and crumbled oreos. She held the mug in her hands - it was still warm, although it was probably sitting there for an hour or two.
Nor did it have everything she asked for, but the thought of Paintbrush still trying to fulfil her ridiculously complex request made her smile, her light brightening along with it.
It was only then that she noticed baxter, snuggled up underneath the lampshade on her nightstand too, sleeping. Paintbrush must've brought him there to keep her company... She gently stroked his red shell before taking a sip of her hot chocolate.
Paintbrush truly is such a good...
friend...
(Btw y'all I wrote this instead of doing my coursework lmao :33)
