Learn To Let Go (Flame Prince × Reader)

A New Dawn Upon Him

After Gumball had given you some breakfast and Doctor Prince had deemed you healthy enough to go out, you headed out to finally go home and put this whole ordeal behind you. Flame Prince arrived just as you were exiting the castle doors and the two of you walked back home to your house just as noon was beginning to creep around.

You sighed, jiggling the keys to your front door violently. You deeply regretted leaving your guitar in your house; at least then you would be able to play a few notes to get inside. When did you ever lock your door anyway? As far as you could remember, you couldn't recall placing a lock on the doorknob. Nonetheless, you were stuck outside of your house with your flaming best friend, who was trying as hard as he could to not burn the grass in front of your door.

"Stupid shitty little..." you grumbled to yourself, still wiggling the keys.

"You want me to try?" Flame Prince offered.

"Please don't burn down my door, Philip," you begged, stepping away from the door and letting him have a turn. "Cake worked really hard to make sure it was sturdy."

He took a small, careful step towards your door and opened his palm to it but not making direct contact with it. The brass knob shuddered and twisted, and he let the cool easy breeze push open the door. His face turned back to yours and he ushered his hand through the doorway. "Ladies first," he smirked.

"How did you do that?" You stepped through the opening of your house and closed the door shut behind him.

"I've been practicing, do you like it?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, but how?" you repeated. "You didn't even have to touch it."

"I don't know," he said. "I bet you Gumball would love to experiment on me and find out."

You shot him a look and flicked on a hallway lamp. "Leave it alone, Phil," you sighed. "You already caused a big scene at his castle, I don't want your attitude to follow into my house."

He stayed quiet, which you assumed was a sign that he had let it go. If he wasn't going to drop it then he at least took the hint that you did not want to talk about it. Gumball was still your friend after all, and the last thing you wanted was to turn against him even if him and your best friend didn't quite get along.

"I trust you won't burn down my house and that you are perfectly capable of keeping your cool for a day with me," you smirked.

"I am fully capable of keeping my cool," he smirked back, taking a seat on your leather couch that Marshall had so generously donated when you first moved in. "Just you watch."

"Alright. Kitchen's to the left, I'm sure you can eat some burnt crisps of the shit I failed to make a few nights ago. Bathroom... I don't know if you use the bathroom or what you expel, but it's down the hall. I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get my guitar," you said.

"Okay," he smiled.

You mounted the stairs and made it to your bedroom. Your guitar was still there at the foot of your bed where you left it. Grabbing it, you plucked a string and sighed. The note sent a cool air stream towards your face and it gave you a sense of relief to have it in your arms again. "I missed you, buddy."

"Talking to inanimate objects again, I see."

"Philip!" You yelled, whipping around and scowling. He laughed and ran out from the doorway, carrying with him the echo of his amusement. "Oh my glob, you did not just accuse me of talking to nothing."

"Well you were, weren't you?" he snickered.

"That is besides the point, Mr. Me-myself-and-I," you sassed, following him down the hallway. "I'm starting to get it from you."