Paintbrush needs to stop overthinking it, or this vacation's going to be pointless.
Wrote most of this in March 2018 as part of a collab between me and a friend who has since left Wattpad! Though it was a collab, the way we worked was, I wrote from the beginning, while they wrote some scenes later in the fic — so this writing should be 98% my own. I enjoyed writing in this really chilled-out way. Because this comes from the beginning of the fic, I think that exposition shouldn't be necessary except to clarify that this takes place post-series.
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It was dark, but the flashlight in their hand and at their side told them all they needed to know about the cabin.
It was a lot like Paintbrush themself, really. It stood tall, brown and proud on the landscape, apart from the shadow-enshrouded nature surrounding it. Wooden, but with strength of foundation that it could deal with a tornado if one came along.
Even then Paintbrush knew they'd be filled with the desire to create. It was a lucky thing indeed that they carried no fewer than a dozen canvasses in a bag strapped to their back.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"About as good as a crab!" Lightbulb led the way and pushed the door open with flourish. The door hit the wall so hard that something fell to the ground and shattered. Lightbulb paid it no mind as she strolled into the cabin like she owned the place. "Hope Baxter's doin' OK with Tube n' Flatman. Wonder what he gets to when we aren't around."
'Does she own this place?' Paintbrush wondered, hand running through their bristles. 'She... didn't really specify. We could be breaking and entering right now. That's something she'd do, right?'
"Come on in, Painty! It's cool in here!"
Paintbrush sped up. The cabin had a slightly elevated porch. The beam of their flashlight came to rest on a rocking chair that looked sat in. (It definitely did not alleviate Paintbrush's concerns that they were trespassing.)
They poked their head inside.
'Oh! She picked a fine one to trespass in.'
It was spacious, with a huge, curtainless window on the opposite wall. The ceiling was high, the furniture sparse; Paintbrush could see every room in the cabin from their spot.
There was a simple wooden staircase leading to a loft with a bed on it. Lightbulb was swinging from a railing there, the only light in the room besides their flashlight.
Paintbrush chuckled. "I guess so. I could get used to this!"
Paintbrush set their bag of art supplies down. The whole place had such a rustic air to it. The texture of the floor and smell of wood all around them made them think of the bygone days of summer camp, but with the cleanliness and luxury of a hotel stay.
Not that there seemed to be anything electric anywhere. There was only a lone refrigerator, sitting in front of an outletless wall.
Paintbrush stared at it with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh..."
"That's where we store all the food. Ya can't have camping without sausages!"
"D-does this place have electricity?"
"Well, duh! I'm electricity!"
Lightbulb slid down the railing and pulled a metal box from seemingly out of nowhere. She stabbed the top of it through with the refrigerator's plug and gave it a hard slap.
There was the buzz of electricity for a moment, and then the sound of the refrigerator powering on.
"Now that's a bright idea. ...Wait, if you can power that on, where are the other appliances?"
"This is a log cabin in the middle of nowhere; we don't need that junk," Lightbulb replied. "We can get you mad and use you as a campfire to toast our weenies! Or just use some a' these."
She flicked something at them. Paintbrush caught them midair. "...You know there's no way I'm letting you carry a pack of matches, right?"
"Fair enough." Lightbulb came closer. "What do ya say? Feelin' relaxed yet?"
"Maybe I'll feel better once we're all settled in for the night."
"It's way past my bedtime. I'm ready for sleepy-time if you are."
"Mm, in just a minute." Paintbrush unfolded their easel and left their art supplies in their bag near it. As they set things up, just so, they explained, "I want to paint the sunrise tomorrow. You have to have everything set up in advance — you can't mess around with supplies. It's fleeting."
"Well, your bed's waiting up here!" There was a faint whump sound. Paintbrush quickly rummaged for their pallet, left it on the floor beneath the easel, and climbed up the stairs to the loft.
Lightbulb was already sitting back in the bed.
'Wait, the bed?'
"Hold on; there's only one bed. Am I supposed to sleep on the couch, or-"
"You answered your own question, smarty pants. There's a bed."
Paintbrush's eyes widened with realization. "Oh."
...Yeah, that was going to be awkward.
"What's the matter? Do ya have a problem with soft mattresses? 'Cause if you want it harder, I can go find a bunch of rocks for you right now."
"N-no. I can manage."
Lightbulb raised an eyebrow. "So you want a sleeping bag for the camping experience?"
"Nope! Soft is fine."
'Is this going to be awkward or what? ...Nope! Not if I stay focused!'
Paintbrush set their luggage down. "Uhh... So, I'll take the right side, you get the left?"
Lightbulb rolled over and turned off with a flick. Paintbrush fluffed put their pillow on the bed and lay down, pulling the quilt over themself.
The excess heat from Lightbulb having been on soon lulled Paintbrush to sleep.
⁂⁂⁂
The sunrise was fleeting, like many of the greatest things in life. That morning, Paintbrush found that they needed a lot of shades of orange as they captured the beautiful sight.
It made their pulse race. Never again would there be a sunset quite like that one, and it was their duty to capture it for all eternity.
Lightbulb was a bit like that, too. One moment she'd be saying reassuring, insightful wisdoms, and the next she'd be uttering nonsense.
(Then again, maybe it made sense after all. Paintbrush had gotten a lot better at deciphering Lightbulbese since accepting that they worked well together.)
Still, one way or the other, Lightbulb never did the same thing for long. It was annoying sometimes, sure, but more than that, it made Paintbrush wish they could be more like her. It was their differences that made them work, but she was constantly smiling, never stressed.
'Maybe that's why I admire her so much.'
Paintbrush ignored the thought. No, it was pointless to even think about it.
'Get yourself together, Paintbrush! Just focus!'
The smell of acrylics filled the room by the time that they finished. It looked nice; Paintbrush was sure of their skill.
But some imperceptible little thing was missing. Their heart sank. They rinsed off the brush and tossed it roughly into the cup with the other ones.
'Ugh. As always.'
"Good morning, Painty! I had the greatest dream about a donut." Lightbulb gave them a sunny grin. "You feeling relaxed yet?"
Paintbrush sighed. "Not yet." Before Lightbulb's smile could falter much, they added, "But we did just get here."
"I guess so. It'd be a shame if we went to the trouble and it didn't do anything for ya."
Paintbrush grinned, hoping they didn't look too fond. "Right."
"I'll bet you're gettin' hungry. That won't do if we're gonna go on a walk or something! I made some sammiches, so we can stuff those down our holes."
Lightbulb dashed away to dig around in a picnic basket with vigor. Paintbrush prepared to say that she should slow down, lest she damage the sandwiches, but Lightbulb returned almost as soon as she left, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in hand.
Lightbulb handed Paintbrush their sandwich, then held hers up. "Cheers?" They bumped their sandwiches together.
"Bottoms up!" Lightbulb chomped hers down.
⁂⁂⁂
In the presence of nature, the best of Lightbulb came out. She had a way of pointing out every bird, every newborn plant--with the nature of a curious child.
"Aww! That squirrel is really cool!" Lightbulb pointed up a tree. "I'mma get a closer look."
Before Paintbrush could object, Lightbulb started climbing it. They considered telling her to come down, that it could have germs or something, but soon, they laughed quietly.
'Always unpredictable, that one. Maybe that's why I like her so much- I-I mean.' Paintbrush rerouted their thoughts. 'Why everyone likes her so much.'
"Here, little lady! I got some nuts! Not right here, but I'll get them!"
'She never worries about anything... maybe I need to be a bit more like her.'
The squirrel kept scurrying away from her. The early sun caught off her glass in such a way that it almost created a halo, but the only thing that was brighter was her smile.
Paintbrush caught themself staring. "It's probably useless. Come down before you hurt yourself."
"I can practically feel her! Just gimme another- Oof!" Lightbulb fell off the branch, and barely caught herself on the one below it. The loud noise send the squirrel careening into its burrow. "...Second. Okay, fine. When she says no, you can't push it." She slid down the tree like it was a fireman's pole. "You know what they say, there are more squirrels in the sea. Let's keep moving!"
Lightbulb grabbed Paintbrush's wrist and pulled them ahead. Maybe going with the flow wouldn't be so hard when it moved with this girl's whims.