Accidental Kabedon
*trips cutely and this drabble of Nightlight and Dior's first official meeting falls out of my pocket*
“I'm going to go talk to them.” Nightlight managed to sign despite how his hands were trembling at the very thought of being so bold.
Synodic looked from their friend to where his eyes were intently focused on the distant figure practically glittering in the sunlight of midday. The scowl hardened on Syn's already dour face, their optic display drifting skyward in annoyance. “Oh, you mean the tart?”
“That's not nice.” Night scolded with his hands while his voice box crackled with static in disapproval.
“She's not nice.” Syn retorted before turning their attention to the open book in their lap.
“You don't know that. You've never bothered to get to know them.” Night signed quickly in frustration, but his friend was no longer paying any attention his way.
But that was fine.
He would show Syn that they were wrong, that Dior wasn't a 'tart' and he wasn't 'not nice' either. He was just... aloof.
Surely Syn could understand that, being quiet and standoffish theirself.
Determined now to not only speak to his crush, but also prove to his friend that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Night clenched his fists at his sides and started over to the smoldering beauty leaned against the wall just outside of the bar.
He pondered what he might try to say, not that he could truly “say” much of anything. That stupid voice box of his was perpetually on the fritz making any sort of meaningful communication difficult if the other person didn't know sign language. He could of course try writing down what he wanted to say, assuming his hands could stop shaking long enough to make the words legible.
Maybe just a brief hello at first, a little wave to break the ice and see if Dior would even be open to talking to him. They might be busy or not in the mood to try to carry on a conversation, especially one they had to read. He didn't want to overwhelm them during the first interaction, after all.
Yes, a wave would be enough for now, and if this went well... maybe they could chat further, assuming she was amiable to the idea.
He picked up the pace, more determined now than ever that he was going to finally go through with making contact after all this time he'd been pining after them. He'd been too timid for far too long but he wasn't going to let his shyness hold him back any further. This could be the start of something great; friendship maybe, or possibly even-
Static slipped out of the voice box on his chest at the fluster he felt over even considering someone like Dior would be interested in someone like him in that way. He suppressed the noise by shaking his thoughts and focusing on the vision in front of him.
He'd truly never seen a more beautiful creature before he'd laid optics on them, and the closer he stepped, the more radiant their beauty became. They were only a few yards away now, closer than he'd ever dared get in the past. He could make out every single perfect inch of their dainty frame with the way the fabric clung so tightly to every curve and crevice.
Golden adornments glistened in the sunlight and wisps of smoke from the cigarette hanging from those lovely lips gave Dior an almost ethereal quality.
He was so gorgeous to behold.
Just a short ten feet to go now, and Night could feel his inner mechanisms working themselves up into a frenzy. Excitement and anticipation and anxiety were wreaking havoc on him, but he wasn't going to back down. He shuffled forward, slowly raising his hand into the air so that he was ready to wave when he got close enough.
Dior dropped his spent cigarette, crushing it under the heel of a black leather boot and grinding it into the ground. He was on the move and headed back inside the bar.
No! Night was losing his chance!
He scurried to catch up before Dior could disappear back inside where there were others far more interesting to talk to than himself. His stride became longer in the hopes of getting there in time, of at least being able to give them that wave hello. He was so focused on getting there...
It all happened so quickly, though to him it was a mortifying eternity.
Fabric caught underneath his foot as he tried to take another step, sending his tall, lanky form off balance and barreling forward. He was able to pivot and catch himself on the wall, hands slamming against the structure to support his weight before he could topple all the way to the ground. But any relief he may have felt from preventing such an embarrassing fall was chased away by the image of Dior standing there beneath him, their back pressed to the wall and eyes wide with surprise.
Horrible, panicked static rose from his voice box until it became a loud, high-pitched screeching that echoed like a warning siren throughout the vicinity. It seemed to grow louder the more he tried to make it stop.
This was awful.
This was the opposite of what he wanted.
This was downright humiliating.
He pushed off the wall and crumpled up on himself, hands pressing against the speaker on his chest to muffle that awful sound but it just kept happening, like a scream echoing in his mind that he couldn't silence. He could feel himself heating up with shame, the lighted parts of himself turning a bright and garish pink.
Then he felt something that should have been wonderful; a hand touching him with a gentle, delicate tap on his back. A voice soft as velvet dripped with confusion from somewhere above him, though he was too horrified to appreciate its dulcet beauty. “Hey, you okay big guy? Sounds like you might be having a little malfunction. Maybe you should go see if Syd-”
Night could not get away from the situation fast enough, bolting back to his feet and rushing away from Dior as quickly as his legs could carry him. He didn't dare look back at her, far too disgusted with himself and his stupid broken body to face her after that terrible attempt at an introduction.
He ducked out of sight at the nearest opportunity, between two buildings where he folded back up on himself to muffle that still blaring sound he was making.
He wanted to tear out that stupid, stupid voice box and smash it into a thousand itty-bitty pieces.
Pink light gave way to red before mellowing out to orange, with blue following soon after. The sound had thankfully dwindled, though there was still a low static flowing out in sporadic bursts, not at all unlike a hiccupping sob of a fit-weary toddler.
He felt so stupid, stupid, stupid.
Footsteps approached, heavy and jingling. He didn't need to look up to know who was there. His posture relaxed slightly and he let his hands fall away from his chest so that he could sign to the figure now standing right in front of him.
“I messed up.”
“I saw.” Syn replied, holding out a hand to help Night stand back on his feet.
“I'm so stupid.”
“Hey, what did we tell you about that word?” Syn squatted down in front of his friend and let out a synthetic sigh. “Never at yourself, right?”
A little static slipped out in disagreement but Night reluctantly nodded his head.
Syn forced a smile, but Night wasn't looking at them, so they let it fall and instead shifted to sit beside the defeated animatronic sulking in the alley. They nudged him gently in an effort to ease his disposition, though it was evident that he was going to need a little bit more time to stop feeling so sorry for himself. “It'll be okay, Night. You'll get another chance to talk to them. Maybe even laugh about what happened.”
“No. I'm never going to try to talk to them again. I can't. Not after that. It was so humiliating and they probably think I'm some kind of freak, which I am, and they'll never-”
Syn reached out and grabbed Night's hands in his own, the appendages trembling with the clear overabundance of negative feelings coursing through those wires of his. “Nightlight, stop. Please. I know how you feel about him but I promise you, this is not worth beating yourself up over. This isn't the end of the world. This isn't even the end of your chance with him. If anything, this could be the start of a friendship for you two or maybe... m-maybe something else too.”
Night turned his optics toward his friend and pulled his hands back so that he could sign a response. “Do you really think so?”
“Hey, you never know. I mean, just look at how you and I met, and now we're practically inseparable. It could work out for you two in the end. So just... don't give up hope, okay? And don't be so hard on yourself. You've got a lot more going for you than you give yourself credit for.”
Night could see the blue light he was casting on Syn's face melt away to a soft, yellowish glow. If he could smile, he would, but he knew his friend understood what that warm yellow light meant. He signed a quick “thank you” to the animatronic at his side and let his head lull onto Syn's shoulder just as the other lunar form wrapped an arm around him.
“No problem, Nighty.” Syn muttered, squeezing their friend just a little closer to them. “Anytime.”