November. A month of chilly weather, Thanksgiving, and some, ahem, crude memes. But, Edgar notes grimly, it also means having to take down Brawl-o-ween decor and repeat the sick tradition of prepping for Brawlidays season way too early.
Edgar enters the store with a sigh. At least it smells nice. And buying all this stuff won't be the hardest thing he has to do. Paper, tape, ribbons, more paint and glitter. Collecting them is boring enough that it's pleasant, but he stops in his tracks when he sees a familiar head of bright orange hair in line for the cashier.
God no.
She chirps a "see ya later!" in that irritatingly jovial voice on the phone and hangs up. When she sees him, her equally jovial expression fades.
"Hi Edgar." She says in a slightly more irritating "civil" voice, eyes flat.
"Hi. Amber."
Best case scenario, they leave it at that. Edgar goes back to the gift shop with his paint and glitter, and Amber scrams far, far away, with whatever tiny candles she seems to be holding. Unfortunately, he knows she's not the kind of person who can stand more than two seconds of awkward silence. Just his luck, having such a chatty archnemesis.
"So, whatcha buying?"
"Stuff."
He stares at a shelf stocked with pad paper.
"Wow, isn't that the most descriptive answer," Amber quips.
"I know."
Silence. Good riddance. Edgar continues raking his eyes over the shiny white floor tiles.
Sadly, he also begins thinking that it's a little too early. Amber's annoying and a big tryhard, but it won't kill him to play along. He challenges himself to extend a crumb of politeness.
"Just some Brawlidays decor," Edgar gives in, words clipped.
"Hah, never saw you as the festive type."
"I'm not." He glances at her candles, small and pale. Probably new recruits for her ever-growing list of things to burn. "Guess I don't have to ask what you need those candles for."
"Oh, that's where you're wrong. These are for Poco."
"Why would Poco need candles?"
Amber gets half a syllable out before her eyes widen suddenly, mouth rounded in an 'O'.
"Oh... you see... he's always liked candles!" she says, voice unnervingly void of any sass. "No no, he needs them for a performance."
He narrows his eyes.
"Okay."
Edgar decides not to push the matter. They have places to be, and the idea of prolonging a conversation with Amber is so not exciting. But wow, he never knew he could trust her any less. If anything, he's only more annoyed at what a bad liar she is, 'cause now he's curious enough to actually try and find out.
But that can wait. As soon as he gets back to the gift shop, he's ceremoniously greeted at the door by Griff.
"Edgar! About time. Christmas must've come and gone about a hundred times already!"
It literally isn't even close.
"Anyway," Griff continues, not waiting for a reply, "Come help. You set up the greenery. And then arrange the gift boxes."
"K."
He mentally mourns the packed away spiderwebs and pumpkins. Instead, there's Colette hanging up festive stockings by the window. And a huge smiling Spike stocking, of course. Where did she even get that?
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Come As You Are
قصص الهواةEdgar's forever haunted by his first breakup, and Colette thinks she fell for him at the worst possible time. (Edgar x Colette) (Past Edgar x Emz)
