31- I'm so Helplessly Sugar-high (On you)

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"I can't believe you've forced me into this," Paintbrush bemoaned, dramatically clutching their imaginary pearls, looking away with a coy grin. Lightbulb sputtered beside them, and Paintbrush snuck a look at her shoulders stiffened at her sides, hands turned to fists.

"You suggested this!" She said, a smile finding its way into her voice, although it hadn't made its way onto her face.

"Nope," Paintbrush said, shaking their head. "I never did that. It was you who asked to go out for ice-cream, not me."

Lightbulb's eyes narrowed, a pout making itself known. "You did," She muttered, turning her head to conceal the smile that surfaced. Paintbrush saw it moments before she turned; as a matching smile made its way onto their own face, they rolled their eyes.

"I certainly don't remember that," they said, continuing with the teasing even though they knew it was them who asked. If only to make Lightbulb smile.

Lightbulb turned around, a big goofy grin on her face. She blew a raspberry at them, both eyes squeezed shut. "Remember that," she said with a big smirk on her face. One of her eyes squeezed shut again, the other twinkling with mirth and... something else, something that made Paintbrush's heartrate rise.

Lightbulb continued to walk, holding herself confidently with her head high. Paintbrush walked behind her, slightly dazed at the big smile, the wink.

(Was it a wink, or were they overthinking things? Either way, it made them a bit weak in the knees, struggling to keep up with Lightbulb's fast strides.)

"Come on, Painty!" Lightbulb yelled, further up the street than Paintbrush. "The ice-cream truck will close!"

"Lightbulb, wait up," Paintbrush panted, speeding up their walk until they were at each other's sides again. "The truck isn't gonna go anywhere; it's only, what, 10AM?"

"What if it leaves at noon?" Lightbulb said despairingly, turning on her heel to face Paintbrush. "What if it's leaving right now?"

"Calm down," Paintbrush said with a roll of their eyes. "We can always go somewhere else if they close. Which they won't."

"But I want ice-cream from there," Lightbulb whined, slouching as she walked. Paintbrush strode in front of her, grabbing her by the hand and practically dragging them along, purely out of annoyance.

"Then we'll get ice-cream from there," Paintbrush sighed, continuing to drag Lightbulb by the hand. Lightbulb had gone surprisingly quiet, yet Paintbrush didn't turn their head to face her. "You actually need to get there for that, though, so come on."

"Wh-"

"Take a deep breath."

An audible, yet surprisingly shaky breath was heard from behind them. "There. Calmer?"

"Uh- yeah."

"Good. Now come on, we're almost there."

It was only when the two of them lined up beside each other to order that Paintbrush realized exactly what they'd done. Their cheeks heated up until they were sure they could fry an egg with their blood in record time.

Although they felt eyes staring at them in the form of little pinpricks in their neck, they averted their eyes from the person their hands were linked with. They hadn't noticed that the two of them were supposed to move up in the line until their arm was tugged forward rather forcefully; Paintbrush was convinced their wrist had popped out of its socket for a long moment.

Just as they were about to ask Lightbulb what her deal was, turning around with a glare already prepared, she blinked up at them with an innocent smile. All the fight previously left in them was drained by the sparkles that shone in her eyes, the electric blue that melted them. Paintbrush rolled their eyes, responding with a smile of their own.

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