✮ Rockstar ✮ || A Lightbrush Fanfiction

Chapter 20 - Breakfast

    Paintbrush groaned, their whole body sore. Sleeping on Lightbulb's hardwood floor made their body stiff and warranted the worst sleep they'd had in a while. They didn't want to be rude and sleep in the same bed as her without permission, so they opted for the ground instead.

    They stood up after a bit of thinking about their life choices and sat on the edge of Lightbulb's bed. They looked at her dreaming peacefully, snuggled up tightly in her covers. They knew the alcohol could still have affected her, and she could be hung over if she awoke.

    They didn't want to take that chance, but she had to get up.

    "Lightbulb?" They whispered, leaning over and shaking her shoulder carefully, "You have to wake up, it's morning." She moaned in frustration, turning over and throwing the covers over herself, "Five more minutes..."

    "No, Lightbulb, you have to get up eventually. It's better to do it now than later." Paintbrush glanced over at the alarm clock situated on Lightbulb's bedside table. It was 9 a.m., not bad. They probably only woke up because of how uncomfortable they were though.

    It was easier to try and convince someone to wake up than to wake up yourself, they knew that, so they had to help her another way. They pulled the covers off of her and fixed her hair, "I'm gonna go for a nice walk, you need some fresh air and a good breakfast. Can you get up and come with me please?"

    After a second of debating in her head, she sat up.

{Switch POV}

    Lightbulb slowly rubbed her eyes, still mad Paintbrush convinced her to sit up. "What..?" She whined, turning to them. They chuckled and swept a stray curl away from her face.

    "Thank you for waking up. Now, I wanted to eat something and go for a quick walk. Do you want to come with?" They offered, a content smile brightening their tired face. She nodded, her eyes still adjusting to the sun shining into her room. "Okay, great. Can you stand up?"

    They're treating me like a baby... Lightbulb stood up slowly and stretched, God, I feel horrible. What the hell happened last night?

    "Painty...?"

    "What's up?"

    "Why are you in my house?" She wondered aloud, walking to her bathroom to get ready. They didn't follow her until they saw her start to brush her hair. "Oh, uh, you probably don't remember, do you?"

    She shook her head.

    "Well, you downed 53 cookies and yelled it was a new record, then you threw up twice, and almost passed out. But the reason you feel so bad," they hopped up on her granite countertop, their legs swinging idly, "is because Bow spiked the cookies with alcohol that was who knows how old."

    Lightbulb stopped what she was doing, "Bow did what?"

    "She spiked the cookies?" They repeated.

    After a moment of silence, Lightbulb clapped excitedly and bounced on the tips of her toes, "Cool! So I was drunk that whole time? Sick, dude! I've always wanted to get drunk!"

    "Lightbulb, no," Paintbrush sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose, "you'll get addicted and you'll end up like my parents. Do you want that fate?" They placed their hands on her shoulders and shook her softly, immensely disappointed at her reaction.

    She was quiet, and their expression fell, "Dude, really?"

    "Okay, okay, I was joking! Only a little bit. Actually, well, yeah I was. But I wasn't joking about the drinking part! It always seemed so fun, but now I don't feel good and I hate it so thank the alcohol for making me hate itself."