✮ Rockstar ✮ || A Lightbrush Fanfiction

Chapter 19 - Cookies

T/W// Vomiting

    Paintbrush kicked a rock as they walked, following Lightbulb to the old mansion. She hummed idly, skipping ahead to hit an overhanging branch with her hand.

"How much longer until we get there?" They asked, jogging up to her.

"Huh? Oh, it's right up here!" She chirped, pulling her costume off and wrapping it around her waist. They exhaled, their legs getting tired from walking all night.

They took a deep breath, the crisp, cool air feeling refreshing in their lungs. As they walked, stray leaves crunched under their worn Converse. It was a calming moment. The two of them walked silently together, cars zooming past with their bright headlights illuminating the road ahead.

Paintbrush clenched their fists. Their hand felt empty somehow. It was like something was supposed to be filling the space between their fingers and their palm. A sudden longing hit them.

Without thinking, their hand reached the short distance and gently grabbed Lightbulbs. They held it loosely in theirs, their brain quickly catching up to their action. Oh god, why did I do that?

Paintbrush slowed their pace to keep up with Lightbulb. She seemed stunned for a second, her hand not moving in reaction. Eventually, her fingers slipped between theirs, interlocking their hands together.

The pair walked in silence, neither wanting to speak. Paintbrush felt their face warm with blush, but in the darkness, it was impossible to tell.

Lightbulb gazed down to their legs walking in tandem. After a moment, she started to say something. "Did you..." she trailed off, looking almost ashamed to continue.

"What?" They questioned, a twinge of worry in their voice. She didn't respond. Is she upset? They wondered, the old mansion starting to come into view. Maybe I should let go.

Paintbrush sighed and pulled their hand away. A small mumble of apology escaped them, "Uhm, sorry." They didn't want to feel uncomfortable, nor did they want to rush things. If she even liked them in the first place, that is. They highly doubted it.

Before their hand touched their side, Lightbulb grabbed their wrist. "It's... it's fine," she whispered. Her hand slowly slipped back into theirs. They felt their heartbeat increase as the corners of their mouth lifted into a warm smile.

She chuckled. "We're so awkward, aren't we?" Paintbrush nodded, staring ahead at the bunches of people waiting on the creaky porch a few meters ahead. "Yeah, we kinda are."

They kept their hands intertwined as they approached the door, not minding anyone staring. They were only doing it because their hands were cold, nothing else.

Paintbrush flipped their sunglasses back over their face, not wanting to deal with being noticed. Lightbulb waved to some of her friends, their faces almost surprised to see her holding someone's hand. If they were in their place, they would be surprised, too.

The conversations around them slowly died down as it hit 11:59, whispers wondering when exactly the doors would open. Crickets filled the air as the seconds passed, their anticipation building up.

Then, finally, as the clock struck 12, a booming grandfather clock chimed through the mansion, escaping the worn walls and echoing outside. A figure opened the door and stepped out, their appearance almost ghastly.

"Hello everyone!" The figure took another step forward. The moon's brightness cast onto them, revealing the person to be Bow herself. "Now, who's ready to get this cool party started!" She yelled, throwing her arms up. The small crowd of people cheered in response and started rushing to the door.