Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Scarab was very well acquainted with the big grey structure that was lying in front of him, big glass windows and shiny metallic details that adorned the architecture, the panels making it seem taller than it was, creating this almost intimidating atmosphere around, he entered it every single day, so he didn’t know why on this day, in particular, he had this gut feeling that something was going to go wrong, one way or another, like a bash of anxiety that washed upon him the moment his lungs breathed the air around the structure, for a moment he though of simply turning back, but his body, almost like on autopilot, was already stepping up to the entryway of the lobby, so he supposed it was too late to take his car and go home before whatever was going to happen, well, happened.

He fixed his dark red tie while passing the receptionist, who just gave him a sharp glare in acknowledgment. The feeling in his stomach only grew stronger as he entered the elevator, pressing the button to get to his department, Public Relations.

He could only hope none of his coworkers wanted to chat with him, not that he disliked them, but they just weren’t exactly the type of people he wanted to associate himself with, much less right now with this impending sense of anxiety that was gnawing at his stomach, he eyed the various faces that passed him as he made his way through the office, Scarab remembered their very poor attempts at making small talk in the retreat area were very much ignored or dismissed by Scarab as he saw socializing in the workspace as a huge waste of time.

“Heyy, Scarab!” Someone clicked his fingers behind him.

“Good morning, Orbo” Speaking of the devil, he thought to himself, as a tall, sturdy man with slicked-back greying hair approached him, giving him a pat on one of his shoulders.

“How you doing, mate? Anything up for this weekend?” The man asked, with an enthusiastic tone, though Scarab knew that Orbo didn’t like him that much to be doing small-talk with no ulterior motive this early in the morning, he wondered what would he ask him to do this time, and why didn’t he just asked him directly, he was his superior after all.

“I’m fine, as always.” He answered, as he continued to make his way to his fairly big cubicle, it was meant to be shared, but the PR department had some free space, enough for some of the workers to have two cubicles all to themselves. Orbo just followed his step, trying to keep up the conversation.

“Of course, put together as always, Scrabby.”

He paused his pace as soon as he heard that nickname, and suddenly his weird stomach ache returned.

“Excuse me?” He tried his best not to sound too aggressive, reminding himself that being fired for making a scene at work wouldn’t look too good in his curriculum

Orbo seemed confused at the sudden change of tone, “Everything alright mate?”

Scarab composed himself, the only sign of confusion on his face being his slightly furrowed brows. “Why did you call me that?” He questioned

“Ohh, that-” The man smiled, almost relieved that it was just that. “Well, the new guy been calling you that, he said the two of you knew each other, yeah?

“The new guy?” Oh no.

“Yeah, that’s what I was gonna talk to you about -!” Orbo wrapped one of his arms around Scarab’s shoulder, leading him out of the hallway and to his cubicle. He almost shuddered at the contact, slightly sickened at such a sudden approach.

“The higher-ups sent a new CHRO, since, y’know, they weren’t very fond of Kheirosiphon’s work” Orbo said that last part with a sour undertone, he knew Scarab knew, he was the one who reported Kheiro in the first place, was that remark a way to reprimand him for his actions? “Along with some other interns to replace some of the HR team.”

“What is their name- if I may ask?” Scarab prayed to the universe that this new addition to the office Orbo was talking about wasn’t who he thought it was, his life was going so well, as good as it gets being a workaholic, having a, practically, non-existent social life, and wasting his free time writing as his form of escapism, he didn’t him to appear in his life again, he already had enough with the other nuisances that were in his office, Scarab knew he wasn’t liked, he didn’t need to remind that to himself every time his eyes watched one of his coworkers gave him a disgusted look or overhearing their sneaky remarks, he didn’t need him to remind Scarab that every time he looked at his face.

“It’s Primm, I think?” Orbo questioned himself, trying to remember “Or Pims? Something like that, I didn’t quite catch it, my brain’s been kinda messy since yesterday, but aye! he seems like a cool guy,” How could you not know his name? he thought, almost astonished at such incompetence coming from his boss.

He pated Scarab in the back again, Scarab feeling it more like a punch since the taller man didn’t quite calculate how hard to hit him, and Scarab slipped away from Orbos grasp at the first chance, finally making it to his cubicle, noticing there was another chair behind his, and some of his stuff was moved, making space for a cardboard box filled with folders in funky colors and some other things, he slowly turned back to meet his superiors face.

“Orbo-” He couldn’t finish his sentence, as the taller man interrupted him.

“That’s what I was about to mention!” He clicked his fingers, as he was talking he leaned against the short half wall that separated the hallway and the cubicles, resting his face on his hand “Since there’s been some additions to the HR department, we’ve moved some of the new faces up here, y’know, since we have extra space here” Scarab could rip Orbos face right there and now, it was not about sharing his space, it was because they didn’t bother to tell him anything about this before this morning, they didn’t give him some time to mentally prepare or even move his stuff.

“So I’m sharing with some HR intern?” Scarab could feel his eye twitching; just the thought that this mysterious new CHRO could be his long-lost academic rival made the ache at his head and twisting of his stomach worse.

“Watch the tone Scrabby-” He composed himself, almost ashamed at his little slip-up, he opted for distracting himself by rearranging his stuff to fit his now smaller workspace “Plus, it’s not just some intern, it’s that new guy!” and Scarab’s headache suddenly became te times worse, he dropped carefully the folders he had been arranging and rushed to look for a name tag in the cardboard box, trying his best not to look so desperate.

“What was his name? I swear I have it on the tip of my tongue-” Orbo continued to ramble, placing his hand under his chin.

“It’s Prism.o” Someone else entered the scene, a tall, slouched man with pink curly hair, dark skin, and vibrant blue eyes that Scarab could recognize anywhere. He was holding another cardboard box.

“Aye! Prismo! Man of the hour,” Orbo greeted him, the two behaving very casually despite being at work hours and having Scarab’s glaring daggers at both of them while they chatted. “You’re familiar with Scarab, mate?” Orbo wrapped his left arm around Prismo’s shoulders, almost squishing him

“Yeah, totally, we went to school together.” Prismo’s tone almost seemed monotonous, not like the chill-but-cheerful tone he had the first years they both shared in their youth, but he still smiled the same, Scarab noticed.

“So you do know each other! Gee,z Scrabby, why didn’t you tell me?” Orbo looked in his direction

“I didn’t see it important,” and he didn’t know about this until 5 minutes ago. Orbo just murmured a geez, before a beeping sound coming from Orbo’s phone interrupted his attempt at continuing the conversation.

“W, that can’t be. Good, I should probably go check that one.” A feeling of relief unleashed into Scarab’s head; at least now, he only had to deal with Prismo. “You behave yourself, Scrabby, yeah?” Behave, like he was some sort of animal, of fucking course. As he saw the taller man leave, his immediate reaction was to let out a stressed groan, grabbing his face with his own hands.

“They still call you Scrabby?” Prismo finally spoke, directly to him, and he looked down at him, with that dumb smile he always had.

“They didn’t, but I’m guessing they will now that you’re around.” Scarab couldn’t quite put into words how much he despised that nickname, and how relieved he was when he entered a space where nobody knew him or called him by that, oh, how little his peace lasted. The tone he used made it clear that he was annoyed. Prismo did seem to catch it, lowering his head but still keeping his slightly snarky smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Scarab turned his back on him, to not spark any conversation between them, instead focusing on continuing to arrange his things and prepare to start on his report, he could hear and feel Prismo moving around his things, the table vibrating a little every time he put something down on it, and the squeaking sound his chair made whenever he got up and down, this was going to drive him crazy.

“So,” Prismo spoke, finally after finishing organizing his stuff, sitting on the office chair and turning it around to face the shorter man. “Scarab-”

“Don’t.”

“What?” He looked confused, he was confused, he hadn’t even been able to finish what he was going to say.

“Don’t.” He repeated, “I know what you’re trying to do, Prismo.”

“Which is..?” Prismo just stared at him for a few seconds, a little offended at being cut off immediately.

“Small talk, you were going to ask me what I’ve been up to-” Scarab turned around to face him, brows furrowed, he got up and started approaching Prismo. “-How was my life after college, and how was work going?” His tone mocking Prismo’s voice, he stood in front of him, now Scarab being the one who was looking down on him. “You’re predictable at best.”

“Dude,” He paused for a moment to think of something to say other than admit that was exactly what he was going to ask, word for word. He backed up moving his chair, a little bit intimidated “Well, yeah, I was gonna ask you that, but out of genuine curiosity” he admitted “Not just my usual small talk” He noticed that Prismo still used his hands a lot when talking, moving them around and making gestures related to whatever he was talking about.

He hadn’t changed that much, had he? “Tch.” Same calm demeanor, same mannerisms, same dumb eyes, same dumb smile of always. His mere existence annoyed Scarab; Prismo was everything Scarab hated and envied at the same time. And now he had to see that dumb, smiling face every day, for the rest of his life. Or until Prismo got his own space in the office, but be it a day or a year, Scarab loathed it.

“I mean, how couldn’t I be curious, dude? You just-” He used his hands, moving them around a lot and directing them at Scarab while he tried to maintain distance. “Changed a lot.”

Scarab knew that. He had worked hard to change, and he prided himself on that, yet the tone in which Prismo said it made the skin behind his neck crawl, like it was something unexpected or bad, and Scarab's frown deepened at his own thoughts of what Prismo might think about him.

“When Orbo told me I was sharing with you, I asked for a pic, and I couldn’t believe that was you.” He leaned his arm on his desk, in a desperate attempt at looking calm. “I was like, woah, that’s Scrabby?”The nervousness in his tone was evident, and that amused Scarab.

Scarab returned to his chair, turning around and ignoring whatever Prismo had said; it was like talking to a wall. And for the rest of their day, they only exchanged six words;

“You still talk a lot.” A cold and sharp but true statement.

“Guilty.” Prismo let out a nervous laugh after that, which didn't quite sound honest.

Scarab seemed to ignore him for the rest of the day, too focused on his work to even look away from his computer screen. Meanwhile, Prismo was bored to death since he didn’t have something to work on for now, he limited himself to scrolling through his feed, checking his dms, sometimes refreshing them in hopes that someone had messaged him, but no, nothing new. So, he opted for one of the things he knew how to do best: sleep.

He slept through a big part of the morning, only being woken up at his lunch break by his buzzing phone. Still half-asleep, he answered.

“Dude, where are you?” A familiar voice, finally, “Me and cosmic have been waiting for hours in the breakroom.” She dragged those last words.

“Fionna, I just woke up, gimme a minute—” He composed himself, the best he could, at least, he got u, still not quite awake yet, and looked around the half walls that concealed his new workspace to find himself alone. Scarab was probably also on his lunch break.

As he made his way to the marketing breakroom, Prismo had a bad taste in his mouth because of his previous interaction with his new coworker and former schoolmate, Scarab. Something about the way he seemed to just hate him sat wrong with Prismo, why? Why did he hold that weird grudge against him? He couldn’t figure out why Scarab didn’t like him. Sure, he was like this with everybody else, but he was particularly snarky to Prismo.

He noticed it at the start of their freshman year, they weren’t close, to begin with, Prismo would just sometimes make conversation with Scarab, he was curious, but Scarab would always shut down Prismo’s attempts at socializing with him during school hours, Prismo’s interpretation’s of this was that Scarab was one of those lonely wolves type of guys, so he just stopped trying.

It was particularly during the finals season of their freshman year that Prismo noticed Scarab’s mean demeanor towards him, glaring at him in what seemed to be disgust when he passed him in the hallway. When they attended the same classes, Scarab made sure to never sit close to Prismo.

He recalled the only time they were paired together for a project, Scarab angrily called Prismo while he was at a Party just to, shout at him? for not having done his part when the project was due in 5 days, things escalated and Scarab snapped at Prismo, insulting him, a lot, and they ended both doing the project by themselves, ironically Prismo achieving a higher note. After that, he just disappeared off Prismo’s radar.

He was still confused, he hadn’t done anything to Scarab, apart from the whole delayed project thing. Was it really about that? He doubted that.

What else had he done to Scarab?

“Prismo!” A high-pitched voice called his name. When did he get to the breakroom? He saw the owner of said voice waving her hand so he could see them, even if the breakroom was quite empty, and anybody could see their group from a mile away. As he made his way to the table where the girl and two other people sat, Prismo asked himself if he ever would have an answer to his question.

Probably not.

Chapter Text

“What took you so long, man?” Someone asked from the table, with vibrant yellow eyes that contrasted with the earthy tones of his clothing and his dark curly hair, Prismo could recognize him just by the shape of his glasses.

“Nothing,” He sat next to Fionna, as his usual seat next to Cosmic was occupied by someone else, dressed all in white. “It’s just a long walk.” Prismo dropped his arms on the table and rested his head there. “I still don’t know why we don’t have lunch at my unit, it´s way closer to Death and Cosmic.”

“Dude! You’re taking up the whole table.” Fionna spoke, lifting the plastic topper she had previously put on the table, putting it on the very corner of it so Prismo wouldn’t knock it accidentally. “And we don’t because your unit is full of those weird uptight people, just being there this morning for reception gave me a headache.”

“Tell me about it,” The person sitting next to Cosmic spoke, sipping on what seemed to be a thermo full of something that suspiciously smelled like alcohol. And probably tasted like it, too. “I got stuck sharing my office with an intern who doesn’t know how to use Excel. Or the printer. Or anything else that isn’t Instagram.” Prismo finally raised his head, now mostly awake from that nap.

“You also got paired?” He asked, looking at the man across from him. Death just nodded his head in response. Huh, Prismo did remember Orbo mentioning that he wasn’t the only new transfer that was sharing cubicles with someone from PR. The department seemed quite empty, but how many of them were there?

“You’re sharing with someone?” the man next to Death asked, still with some food in his mouth, some crumbs stuck to his beard.

“Yeah…” All eyes turned to him, the three of them curious about what he was going to say next, since how he said that was quiet, almost like a murmur, something unnatural coming from him, “Actually, I kind of got paired with some dude that cursed me out in a college party, who apparently still hates me” For no reason, Prismo though

“Ohh I remember that” Cosmic recalled, now the attention of the group turning to him, “It was crazy, you could hear the screams all the way from the hall, he was pissed” He continued to eat, looking at Prismo’s almost worried semblance. “Did he tell you something? About y’know”

“Not… really? He basically told me he didn’t want to talk to me.” Prismo leaned into the back of the seat, letting his head fall over a little. “He did get up from his chair and kind-of-kind-of-not cornered me while saying it, so”

“So he intimated you, it’s what you’re saying.” Cosmic looked surprised, but was he? This dude had called Prismo in the middle of the night just to yell at him, the perfect beginning for the psycho pipeline. “Ho-oly shit dude, I always knew that guy was psychotic.”

“Kind of?” Prismo dragged his words, while the table looked at him with an almost astonished look, he fiddled with his loose tie. “It was weird.”

“Well, did you tell your supervisor?” Death shortly asked, while Prismo just put on a nervous smile, the one he made when he didn’t know what to say anymore.

“Was I supposed to?” A quiet yeesh was heard from Death. “I didn’t feel intimidated, just weird, I guess?” Prismo still felt weird; he had this itch in his mind he couldn’t quite find, and he didn’t know what was making him feel so… anxious.

That was the closest thing to what he was feeling, he kept thinking of the interaction he had with his now coworker, while the group seemed to move onto another topic of conversation, he was out of it, he didn’t know if it was from still being sleepy or if it was from his thought always circulating back into the question he had asked himself earlier, why didn’t scarab like him?

Honestly, it didn’t bother him to not be liked, he didn’t care enough for it to affect him, he was just confused, curious and confused, he just wanted to know what was Scarab’s deal, but he couldn’t seem to find a good way to approach him, going up to him and directly ask him why did he hate Prismo didn’t seemed like a good option.

“Earth to Prismo-” Fionna waved her hand in front of his face, while Cosmic and Death continued to talk. “What’s got you thinking so much?” She looked curious more than worried, still poking at her food and looking at him.

“Something dumb,” He admitted, because it was dumb, knowing what made Scarab hate him wasn’t going to automatically make him not hate him, why even bother?

“Well, it can’t be that dumb if it’s got you looking all down-” Fionna insisted, as she took out a small pink box from her backpack, the sweet smell of it drowning the table as she opened it to reveal a bunch of cookies, most of them in the form of little gingerbread men, Fionna grabbed one for her and another one for Prismo.

“It’s just, there’s this-” He grabbed the star-shaped cookie he was offered and stopped for a moment, thinking of how to refer to Scarab “-person I really want to ask something to, I just can’t find a way to speak to them,” His tone made it clear he was stressed, voice raising a little on that final part of his sentence and hands moving as he gestured almost every word he was saying. “I mean, I don’t want to befriend them, or talk to them, honestly, I just want to ask them something, and then leave.”

“Dude, you’re making it sound way more complicated than it is, just go up to them and talk, ask them the damn question” She gave him a small punch on the back of his arm “It can’t be that hard to just talk to them,” She took a bite off her cookie, taking a moment to swallow “Well, wait no, it depends on what you’re going to ask-” Fionna looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“It’s just something personal, nothing too interesting.” He questioned whether he should even tell him or not; it wasn’t something embarrassing or bad. If Scarab got mad at him for asking, then that was his deal, but still, Prismo wasn’t sure.

How could this affect him, anyway? Scarab made it clear he didn’t want to talk to him, so he didn’t think he would be harassing Prismo or something like that, he could just do this whole month of work without talking to him until they give Prismo his own workspace in the HR unit, it couldn’t be that hard.

Sure, he would be left with the empty, gnawing feeling of doubt in his stomach, the doubt of if there was something wrong with him that made this specific person, whom he hadn’t thought of in years, dislike him, that damn question unanswered, plaguing his mind for the rest of his long, long life, until the very last moment when he stops breathing, or until he forgets, whatever happens first. Prismo groaned at just the thought of not knowing.

He decided to ask him, for the sake of his mental well-being, but he still couldn’t think of a way to even approach him, he continued to eat the cookies Fionna had brought, looking and appreciating the details that, whoever made them, put into them, right at that moment an idea sparked inside of him.

A ridiculous, cliché, and honestly, a stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless.

What the hell is that?

Scarab thought to himself, he had just arrived at work when he noticed something unusual; his desk had a little pink box lying there, decorated with white edges simulating frosting, with a small yellow post-it on it.

'They gave me extras at the cafe:)'

That smiley face at the end really sealed the deal that Scarab was disturbed, to say the least, he looked around to see if anyone was near his cubicle, in hopes of seeing whoever left that on his desk, completely out of it just from the weirdness of the situation, to him it looked like the beginning of a horror movie, or a really bad romcom, as he left his briefcase next to his chair, he noticed that his new coworker’s bag was already at his chair, but Prismo was nowhere to be found, was he the one who left that?

Scarab opened the box, out of pure curiosity, of course, to see a few varieties of cookies, some of them in shapes like flowers and stars, others in plain round shapes. He was very confused.

Did they have needles inside or something? Glass shards perhaps? He grabbed one and broke it in half. He didn’t think someone would give him cookies with needles, but you could never know. Scarab tried one of the halves, surprised by the overwhelming sweetness of a single cookie, not his style, but it didn’t taste bad.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why would anyone leave this for him, much less why would Prismo do it, if it had been him, it was too early to be thinking this much about non-related work stuff, Scarab shoved the box aside, and made way for his laptop and one of his notebooks, the previously tidy and harmonious workspace Scarab had created now being interrupted by that box, the cool colors of his desk and his materials contrasting with the vibrant, soft pink of the pastry box, it gave him a headache just by looking at it. He opted to hide it inside one of the drawers of his desk, the one he used for pens and pencils; everything in Scarab’s space had a place, and that box was just disrupting it.

He tried to not think about the box, instead numbing his mind with filling and revising reports, he immersed himself into his work like a sort of escapism, though he wouldn’t admit that, he knew deep down that it was true, there wasn’t anything exciting on his life to busy his mind with, there wasn’t anything else on his life, his social life being practically non-existent.

Scarab knew he didn´t have any other purpose in his life other than to work, to be successful, and every day that fantasy of his work life seemed to slip through his fingers as he realized he wasn’t fulfilled, he wasn’t happy, but he never was, was he? Did he ever have another purpose in his life other than to be successful, either by academic or work standards? No, he never did, he never did truly have a reason to exist other than to be better, to waste his youth studying and working, sacrificing his well-being to have that success and respect he so longed for, distancing himself from the people in his life in the process, the taste of approvement never leaving his mouth as he craved for more of it, for the world to see him for what he was, someone admirable, someone, not just something they could use as their scape-goat for when they were afraid of the consequences.

How he longed to be seen as more than what he is, and how jealous he was of people who had it so easy, who were so likable, who didn’t need to be great to be seen and to be heard, how he longed to be like them.

“Scarab-!” A panted call of his name livened him, pulling him up from his decaying mind-numbing thoughts, as he turned around to see who was calling him, the person he least wanted to see now was there, standing in front of him, “You´re early, I didn’t even see you in the lobby.” Prismo spoke as he took a seat and started to search for something in his backpack.

“It’s 8:40, I’m not early.” He hissed.

“Right, right, I am late, I was just picking up a few things from the marketing unit.” Prismo started rambling about whatever he was doing in another department, and Scarab couldn’t care less, not now, not ever. He said to himself, trying to reassure himself that he hadn’t been thinking about Prismo since yesterday, he couldn’t figure out what he had that made people flutter to him like moths to a light. What was it? What was Scarab missing?

“Did you get the cookies?” That comment snapped Scarabs out of whatever that thought was, reminding him of what made him spiral like this so early in the first place. Scarab turned his head slightly, just enough to have a look at Prismo’s nervous face, he just. Stared. “I’m asking because I don’t… like, see them in your desk and someone could have taken them, so-”

“I did get them. Stop talking.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, already feeling the impending headache that he was going to have today.

“Yeah? Well, did you like them?” Prismo asked eagerly. Why was he nervous? He was a grown man, a grown man who just gifted his coworker flower-shaped cookies to ask him why he didn’t like him. He shouldn’t be nervous.

Scarab stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for some sort of continuation to what Prismo said, preferably that explained why he just randomly gifted him cookies. “They were nice, a bit too sweet for me.”

“Really?” a little huh came from Prismo’s mouth. “I haven’t tried all of them, and I also didn’t know which ones you like, so I just picked random ones.”

“Prismo-” Scarab interrupted, almost in a hissy tone, way too deep into the dizziness to keep up with the conversation. “I appreciate… Whatever this is, but I don’t think I can handle listening to you with this headache.”

“Righttt-” He felt defeated, and kind of disappointed with being shut down, but this was an improvement from the previous conversation they shared, so half-win? Prismo could take that; he finally drifted his attention to the unfinished work on his computer, already getting sleepy just at the sight of it, but he had bills to pay, so he didn’t really have much of a choice in this.

As he lazily started to type into his laptop, he wished for time to pass faster.

And it certainly didn’t, his lunchbreak felt like an eternity as Cosmic spent most of it explaining to him a new game of cards he had discovered, and the rest of work just felt longer, with Prismo not having any big project or deadline to meet, just filling out sheets and sending them, leading to his mind to wander into one of his creations, with the urge to just drop whatever he was doing and start writing a few chapters of his new fanfic.

But of course, as soon as he finished work, he couldn’t figure out how to start the chapter, frustrating himself even more, and just dropped it to continue being bored to death. Prismo stared at the hour on his phone, counting the seconds until his shift ended, begging the universe at this point to just let him leave, he heard the noise of the chair behind him moving, the shorter of the pair already getting up and stretching, Prismo’s eyes following his every movement, Scarab immediately felt his look heavy on his back, turning around to meet the other’s eyes. Both interlocking curious looks, waiting for the other to say or do something.

“You’re going to the lobby, right?” Prismo was the one to break the silence between them, with the exchange of looks between the pair, his own a bit sore and tired from looking at a screen for hours on end.

“Where else would I go?” Scarab didn’t mind turning his back on him while he talked “I can’t exactly go jump out the window, why do you ask?” while that would be very funny and practical, Scarab was stuck on whatever Prismo was about to unleash on him, still confused on why he wanted to talk to him.

“No reason, I just wanted to go with you.” He started shoving everything he had on his desk into his backpack, only being careful when it came to his computer, a few stickers were on the back of it, worn and faded.

Scarab had already started walking towards the elevator, while Prismo tried to keep up with his pace, they both ended up waiting for the elevator together.

“That is a reason, and why? Why would you want that?” Scarab asked, with genuine confusion in his tone, with a little bit of anger mixed in it.

“It gets lonely in the elevator, y’know.” What did he mean? What did he mean by that?

Scarab stared at his face, with slightly furrowed brows and a grimace on his lips. What did Prismo want from him?

“Do I need a reason to want to hang out with my new coworkers?” Prismo smiled, not his usual charming smile, but more of a tender one, being this the first time he and Scarab had talked so long, without insulting each other, they both heard the bip coming from the engines, Scarab already preparing to enter.

“You don’t, but it is weird.” At least to him, it was weird, more so after what happened yesterday. Why would Prismo, out of all people, want to talk to him? As a matter of fact, why would anyone want to talk to Scarab?

“Why would it be weird?” A short laugh came out of him, a laugh that made Scarab’s skin crawl, seeing the confused look on Scarab’s face was something else, as he heard the beeping coming from the engine in front of them he stepped to the side, to make way if people were getting out “You saying that is weird is what makes it weird, Scrabby”

The elevator’s doors opened, and the two of them stepped in, almost in sync.

“Stop calling me that,” Scarab hissed, furrowing his brows at the taller of the pair, locking gazes with him, still with a scowl on his face, and Prismo with a tiny smile on his. “It’s unprofessional.”

Chapter Text

That was the longest elevator ride he had in his entire life.

Scarab thought, as half of it was filled with nonsensical talk from Prismo, most coming from rabbling about one of his weird interests, while Scarab limited himself to just staring at him, in hopes he noticed that Scarab didn’t care enough to keep listening to him. The other half was, for Scarab’s luck, pure blissful silence, incredibly awkward for Prismo.

He had noticed his hands moved less than when he was previously talking about his writing, only doing small flowy gestures, as he found it harder and harder to make a conversation from Scarab’s non-existing responses, the taller man finally gave up mid-way, and only speaking again to say “see you tomorrow” to Scarab as he left the building. Prismo stayed in the lobby, possibly waiting for one of his friends.

But Scarab was now again in an elevator, this time the ride being fast, as there was no voice echoing through the small walls of it, no one speaking to him about whatever fanfic they wrote last night, Scarab felt the ride go by the blink of an eye, even though technically it was supposed to be longer than the one he does at work, as his flat was one of the very lasts in his building, while his unit was only on the 3rd floor of his office.

He let out a low groan of relief as he entered his apartment, leaving whatever he had in his hands on a glass coffee table and straight away laid down on the couch, finally resting his muscles, though he didn’t put much physical effort into his job it still was tiring, he damned himself for not using his car that day and choosing to walk to the office instead, he knew it was a bad decision as halfway back home he felt a horrible pain in his back

Scarab relaxed his entire body on the fairly stiff cushions of his couch, already feeling his eyes heavy and his headache slightly decreasing, but he couldn’t fall asleep yet, he still had a lot to do around, most of it being cleaning and revising reports Orbo had sent him, only thinking about it made his head spin, this day has been one of the most stressful of his week so far, he was overworked, the bags under his eyes and the tired semblance in his face making it visible to anyone.

It’ll pass, he repeated to himself, over and over, trying to convince his mind that he was still capable of enduring another couple of hours awake and functioning properly, he got up from the couch, regretting it immediately when that ache in his back returned, still making his way into to kitchen, he started to make a mental list of things he had to do that day, just to keep himself busy while his pale hands washed the very few dirty dishes that were in the sink, trying to avoid the thought of how lonely his apartment felt whenever he arrived from work, the silence, while greatly appreciated, made the already off-putting vibes it gave, worse.

As he finished putting away some of the dishes he had just washed, his gaze drifted toward the charming red clock that adorned his empty, pale wall. He realized that most of his walls were empty, but not by choice. He wasn’t fond of the extreme minimalistic style; he saw it in most houses in his complex, and to him, it felt uncanny and non-human, though it would fit him perfectly. His home was leaning towards that style mostly because of the lack of colors and diversity in his furniture.

It resembled his workplace in a way, with everything having a designated place and all of his things shoved into cabinets, leaving most of the place empty as if nobody lived in it.

Only a few things were adorning his walls: paper-framed recognitions that were once Scarab’s objectives, the reasons he got up every day, and to which he gave so much of himself, no, that was an underestimation, he gave everything of himself to achieve them. He gave everything he could possibly give, and he did achieve every single one of them. Every little thing Scarab wanted, he had, and at the moment he got it, he did feel fulfilled, happy even. It made the few people who were around him then happy too, showing they actually cared about whatever he was doing.

But that sentiment didn’t last more than at the moment, with Scarab always having this empty gnawing feeling in his chest that he could do more, much grand things, that he could be more than just the annoying, standoffish, person in the room, that he needed to achieve something big, bigger than what he has now, hold it in his hands and feel like he finally earned something important, that he was someone important, as childish and cliché as that sounded, that’s how those few framed achievements ended up hanging in his lounge dark blue walls, making the rest of his home feel even more lonely in comparison, Scarab felt weird realizing that he didn’t care about them so much now, the things he desired so much in the past were replaced, by more challenging ones, after they been achieved.

It seemed normal at the moment; wanting more being something purely in Scarab’s nature, but he did question himself on how many more of them will he need to feel fulfilled permanently, when could he stop searching that big achievement that would fix all his intrapersonal problems, his only chance at happiness, did other the people in his office felt like this? Like their whole lives had to be devoted to being great, outstanding, and useful at all times, that they needed to be someone important or not be anything at all, if you’re going to do something then you needed to give it your best, your whole life if it’s possible, cause if you don’t then what was coming out of it? That made Scarab’s spiraling thoughts stop,

Did he want to spend the rest of his life working at an office? Sure, he would climb up positions eventually but, an office is an office, and he would be doing the same things he did now, drowning himself in his work and bitter his mind trying to convince himself that he was doing the best he could do with his life, that he was livin’ the dream, hoping that the impending lonely and empty life he so feared to have would come a little slower, what would he do when there were no more ladders to climb up? Would he feel satisfied with his life by that point? He didn’t know!

Would he still be happy with a rather average life, just without friends or anyone to remember what he had achieved, would he feel like he feels now when he sees his coworkers hang out after work? The same feeling he had after feeling happy for a while, he couldn’t understand how some people could be so happy, so naturally it came to them and it stayed too, what did they do to deserve it more than Scarab?

The same feeling he had whenever he looked at Prismo?

He stopped thinking for a moment, as he got up from the ducking stance he had held for the last few minutes, to move towards the big window that covered most of his lounge in a pale natural light, as dark grey clouds started to form above, and little drops of rain wandered his window, the cold feeling of the freezing temperature from outside that burned slightly his hand as he pressed it against the glass, it felt a little bit familiar, he snapped from the little spiraling trance he had been in, probably initiated from the lack of sleep and the pain on his back that was slowly extending to his neck

He took his hand off the window, now on his way to organize the reports Orbo had sent him, he took a final look at the cloudy pale blue of the sky, being reminded of a certain someone’s eyes, Prismo was one of those people Scarab categorized as naturally happy and easy-going, those people he really envied and resented, what could Prismo do better than him to deserve to be happy?

Other than socializing and all of that stuff. Maybe that was what Scarab was missing in the big picture, but he doubted he could even have a conversation with the people he knew without having a headache.

He didn’t see himself having a big group of friends and doing stuff people with friends do, but maybe-

Just maybe, he could try being a little less mean, he could try to be nice, friendly even; he knew that people were either intimidated or annoyed by his presence and while sometimes he was thrilled about it, it wasn’t the best image people could have of him.

He could give it a shot, he wasn’t going to do a full 180 and befriend every knucklehead he saw. Scarab just wanted to try being a little less unpleasant, just to see if anything in his life would change.

If not, he could simply go back to being bitter.

Prismo found himself confused, to say the least, as to why there was a little white box with a beige ribbon on his desk, with the same tiny logo of the pastry box he had given Scarab, he picked it up and plopped onto his chair, leaving his backpack on his desk, he noticed Scarab’s things were already on his desk, but he was nowhere to be found.

He searched for a note or a tag that indicated who left it there, he was 80% sure Scarab had, as weird as that would be, who else would’ve had?

Unless someone else had come and dropped it there for one of them, but the timing was suspicious, he started making an imaginary list of people who could’ve left it, but seeing he couldn’t think of a good answer he decided he would just ask Scarab about it, he would have noticed it, and apart from it being a good way to start a conversation, Prismo really wanted to know who left it, but, where was Scarab?

With the box still in his hand, he got up from his office chair and began to make his way through the dull, monotone halls of the building, hoping to catch a glimpse of Scarab’s light blue hair.

Prismo had never really explored the unit he was settled in, only having a brief tour that Orbo gave him when he arrived to guide himself with, he took his time to try and memorize where the important things where, and to have a little peek at his coworker’s cubicles, mostly to see how they decored it, he wanted ideas, as his was still a little empty.

He couldn’t have gone so far, Prismo thought, and as he finished that brief mental sentence and looked around, he found Scarab standing in line for the printer that the whole building shared.

His gaze was lost on the gray wall, but he occasionally looked at his watch and furrowed his brows, probably at the thought of wasting so much time just standing around and waiting. A small grin crept onto Prismo’s face as he reached out to touch Scarab’s shoulder, almost on autopilot, even though he wasn’t usually one to initiate physical contact, much less greet someone with it. It just felt like the natural thing to do.

“Scrabbyy, I was looking for you, dude-”

“Prismo,” Scarab let out a heavy sigh as if he had been holding it and waiting for a chance to let it out. He shrugged his hand off his shoulder, turning around slightly, to face him. Scarab’s eyelashes were much noticeable from this angle, a bit droopy and uncurled, but Prismo didn’t want to think too hard about why the first thing he noticed about his coworker at eight in the morning was his eyelashes.

“In the flesh,” He had this weird feeling running through his back, all to way to his neck and face, the tone in which Scarab said his name really made him nervous, Scarab had already turned around as it was his turn to use the printer, Prismo scooted aside to avoid delaying the line “Listen, listen, so when I walked over to my desk this morning, I found this box-” his hands moved a lot, he brought the box a little closer to Scarab, as if to catch his attention.

“I know.” Scarab didn’t look up, too busy organizing the documents he was printing, some of them still coming out. “I left it there.”

“You did?” The bluntness of Scarab’s voice wiped the little grin he had off his face, he didn’t even get the chance to ask. Maybe he made it too obvious that he already knew? Or Scarab was trying to keep his conversation with Prismo as short as possible, maybe both. Most probably the latter.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He lifted the sheets in his hands, now carefully separated with a couple of paperclips, and finally looked at Prismo, with one of his eyebrows raised, waiting for the other’s response as he made his way out of the line.

“No, no, totally got it the first time, Scrabby.” Prismo followed his step, looking to the side as he could already feel Scarab glaring daggers at him at the mention of his nickname. He took a few seconds to think before he asked him, “But… why, though?”

“Take it as an apology.” The last few words Scarab muttered were said with the same tone he had used to say his name before, dry, threatening, and… surprisingly tired.

“An apology?” Primo’s eyes widened, the box almost falling from his grasp. “For what?” He stopped for a brief moment to try and process the little yet shocking information that Scarab was throwing at him

“For whatever you want to take it,” His gaze landed on the pastry box Prismo was holding, squinting his eyes, making Prismo shrink under the scrutiny and mild scold. “You shouldn’t move it around so much, it’ll just make a mess.”

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t even opened it-” His hands messed nervously with the box, debating if he should open it now or when he was at his desk. “What is it?”

“It’s an éclair,” Prismo finally opened it, right on cue with Scarab’s words, to find a single chocolate pastry in it, it looked way more fancier than the ones he had given him before “I thought you’d like it” Before he noticed they both were back in their cubicle, Scarab already sitting in his chair and preparing to continue whatever he was writing on his computer.

He stared at the pastry for a long time; he didn’t let it out of his sight, but neither did he take a bite out of it. Scarab figured it was because Prismo thought he had poisoned it, or that he hadn’t liked it.

But the truth was that Prismo just thought it was way too pretty to eat.

Chapter Text

Prismo woke up from his nap by the beeping sound of the train indicating that it was at his stop, with horrible neck pain and a sour taste in his mouth from snoring, it took him a few seconds to react before running out of his seat to get out before the doors closed, he didn’t want to get lost in another station, again.

He checked his watch on his way out, with an unreal hope that somehow he wasn´t late, boy was he wrong, he was lucky that the station was only a few minutes away from his office, though he could arrive in time if he ran, he was too tired to put that much energy into something work-related, he could put an excuse about the train being too slow, or something that could justify him being half an hour late.

When he finally reached the building, he took a couple of seconds to collect himself before entering, fixing his hair and wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, then he walked into the lobby, for better or worse, no one was at the front desk.

At least he was going to avoid getting a nasty look, he let out a sigh of relief, slowly making his way into the elevator, leaning his head and back against the wall, and closing his eyes for a bit, trying to collect his thoughts and remember what he had to do that day.

Work, work, boring stuff, work, not-so-boring stuff, sleep.

His little moment of peace was interrupted before the elevator doors could close, as a gloved hand stopped them from closing, making the elevator make a screeching sound that caught him off guard. Who entered the elevator was the person he least expected to see so late in the morning.

“Scarab?” He widened his eyes a little and clutched his bag to his chest as if he was taking up too much space, even though he was only taking up a small corner. Scarab looked like a mess, deep dark circles adorning his eyes, and his light blue hair was messy, with some stubborn strands escaping from the rigid hairstyle he always wore. He couldn’t help but glance at the unnaturally unkempt appearance of his coworker. ”You look rough, man.”

“Oh, shut it.” The shorter man stepped in and stood beside Prismo, taking as much distance from him as possible, although the narrow space of the elevator didn’t cooperate with his intentions, Scarab reached and pressed one of the elevator buttons, finally letting the doors close and turning his back on Prismo, only looking at him when he spoke.

“Had a bad night?” His poor attempt at making small talk seemed only to worsen Scarab’s mood, he could feel him staring daggers into his face.

“You could say that,” Scarab answered, he would try to entertain whatever Prismo was trying to do, he tried fixing his hair a bit, using the reflective material of the walls of the elevator as some mirror, he could see Prismo was also staring at him, averting his gaze when he realized he got caught staring at his coworker.

“Huh” A small breathy laugh escaped Prismo’s mouth, his face lit up a bit at the thought of having something in common with Scarab of all people, forming deep dimples in his cheeks that were impossible to miss, he covered his mouth in an attempt to hide the slight smile that was emerging in his face. “That’s kinda funny.”

“What’s so funny about that?” Scarab furrowed his brows, finally turning around to face his coworker.

“Nothing! I’m not like making fun of you or something,” He nervously moved his hands to the sides as if he was being threatened. “I just find it.. amusing? I guess. That we both had a rough night.” God he sucked at talking, he thought to himself, as he tried his best not to trip over his words,

“You find that amusing?” He was now standing in front of Prismo, raising an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“I mean, not amusing in that way. I just think it’s… nice? That we have something in common.” He unconsciously buried himself into the corner he was already standing in, making way for Scarab to invade whatever little space was left between them, as he was now almost cornering Prismo.

“Everybody has ‘bad nights’, Prismo,” he said, turning his back on him before the elevator doors closed. The elevator stopped a few floors down from their stop, Scarab took a few steps back as the pair was being cornered by the group of people that got in with them. he leaned in and whispered, as if they were going to get caught. “Plus, us having something in common isn’t anything special, nor worth pointing out.” Their eyes met for a second, maybe even less.

“Geez, I get it,” He also whispered. Scarab didn’t need to look at him to know that Prismo was smiling; the tone and airy sound of his voice were enough. “Just wanted to talk.”

Scarab was about to say something, but a cough from another person in the elevator caught them off guard, reminding them that they weren’t alone. Scarab straightened up, not quite sure when he had lost his composure during their conversation, and decided to stay silent for the remainder of the ride. Prismo wore a small smile, feeling a warm, fuzzy sensation in his chest.

Prismo did his best to avoid looking at his coworker, and almost as if heaven heard his pleas, the elevator doors opened on their floor, and Scarab swiftly exited, leaving Prismo to squeeze through the remaining wave of people. He followed closely behind.

As they walked down the cold hallway of their office, he mumbled, “I wasn’t making fun of you, really dude-” He struggled to keep up with Scarab’s pace, always a few steps behind. Scarab quickened his pace again, leaving Prismo behind. He stayed there for a couple of seconds, a confused expression adorning his face, What the hell is wrong with this guy?’ he thought to himself, brushing his pink hair with his hands, before following behind Scarab, they were heading the same way, after all.

When he arrived at their shared cubicle, Scarab was already typing on his computer, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence, Prismo dropped his backpack gently to the floor and sat backward in his chair, waiting for his coworker to break the silence that had formed in the small rectangular space they shared, he remembered what Fionna had said to him “You’re making it sound way more complicated than it is, just go and ask him” and maybe he was making it too complicated, he should just go for it, what’s the worst that could happen, really?

“Scarab-” He called out, waiting for any kind of answer, but it was almost as if he couldn’t hear Prismo, he rested his head on his arms, waiting for Scarab to turn around, or even hum in acknowledgment, but no, he just stayed there, doing whatever important business people do, he called out again. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“No.”

Prismo stared, he spent a couple of seconds processing the response Scarab gave him, before whispering out in a dumbfounded tone: “What?”

“I don´t talk during work hours.”

“We just talked and it´s like, 9 in the morning-”

“That was different.” Scarab replied dryly, trying his best not to sound so rude, struggling to maintain the conversation with Prismo and also do his reports, he wondered if Prismo had work or even something to do, as he was almost always sleeping or talking during their shifts, he should ask, no, scratch that, that would be rude

“How so?” Prismo asked eagerly, tilting his head and resting it on one of his hands, wobbling from side to side in his office chair. He could feel Prismo’s gaze on the back of his neck, an attentive and careful gaze as if he would escape as soon as he looked away.

Scarab didn´t answer this time, his mind and fingertips solely focused on working, he turned around to face his own desk, more empty than usual as he hadn’t bothered to pull out his things from his bag, he figured it wasn’t of any use trying to talk to Scarab right now, he didn´t know where that had come from, he did talk to Prismo on his first day there, though, it was only to tell him he didn’t want to talk to him, so, not really a good talk.

Prismo took a last glance at the intriguing short man who sat across from him before turning on his computer and checking what he had to do that day; apparently, nothing, a win for Prismo because he was still getting paid, maybe he could catch some of the sleep he missed that night because of an unnecessarily intense game of Catan with Cosmic owl, he leaned into his own arms, a warm embrace that he wished was coming from someone else, he closed his eyes and drifted away into his own world.

The day seemed to slip through Prismo’s fingers at a fast pace, faster than he would like, he sleepily moved through his workday, taking long naps and only waking up when Orbo had come to check on him, he slipped a quick look at Scarab, it didn´t seem like he was up to much either, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him, Prismo went back to sleep, amid his daydreams, he missed lunch, but that didn’t matter so much, he would probably eat when he got home.

Which was happening in a few minutes, as his day was coming to an end very quickly, with half-lidded eyes and muddy thoughts he decided to get up.

He stretched out his back, moving his arms up and almost knocking a few things off the grey shelves that were in the cubicle, Scarab was still typing away, it seemed like he was staying late, not his problem, he reminded himself, Prismo started shoving his things into his yellow bag with a pickle pin decorating it, a gift from a very close friend, he hurried a little, remembering that Fionna had asked him to come with her to run some “errands”, which, knowing the girl, meant fooling around and doing things that were probably illegal on their way home.

He texted her an ominous 'u ready¿' and put his phone in his back pocket, he busied his hands for a few seconds writing on post-it notes what he had to do tomorrow and the days later, not many things by the way, even less that were work-related, one of them stand out from the others in the bunch, a pale blue paper that just had “ask” written on it.

“See ya tomorrow, Scrabs-” He said to Scarab, only making him turn for a few seconds

Before getting up from his chair he received a text from Fionna, 'yeah just wait a bit plssss' Quadruple s, she was going to take her sweet time, Prismo let out a groan and contemplated whether to stay inside the office or wait for her outside, although by this point the air in the building felt suffocating, and it looked even more miserable with so many empty cubicles of people who had already gone home for the day, only a few lights shining in the monotone office, he decided to wait outside.

Prismo liked getting off work so late into the day, he got to see the sun setting and the very few moments where the sky dressed a beautiful tone of pink, similar to the tone of his hair, he made a little mental note to dye it when he got home, a few of his brown roots where showing, his thoughts kept him busy while he waited for Fionna.

He got so see the sky slowly turn from pink to orange and into dark blue, little shiny dots in the sky mocking him as he sat on one of the planters that adorn his office building, he continued texting Fionna from time to time to see if he should still wait for her, it wasn’t strange for the girl to be late, but he was getting tired and wanted to go home, he was ready to step once again into the building to go look for her when he received a text: 'sorry going to hunter’s lol'

“Goddamit-” He cursed out, the stars in the sky surely taking pity of him sitting in the dark, he started thinking about how was he going to get home this late into the night, God, Death was right about saving up for a car, he stopped thinking when a warm light shinned onto the floor, the door to the main lobby of the building was open and Scarab was stepping out of it, almost tripping with Prismo´s brown shoe, he moved his arms intending to catch his coworker before he could fall, he muttered: “Woah, careful-”

“What are you-” Scarab let out a groan that was probably stuck in his throat long before he met with Prismo. He didn’t fall luckily, but he would have preferred it over this. “Prismo. What are you even doing here?”

“Got stuck waiting.” He pointed to his phone in his right hand, his head dropping dramatically after the statement, he´s regretting skipping lunch now more than ever. “What are you doing here? It’s like, way past our work hours-”

Scarab’s frown subtly softened, not quite in the way Prismo wanted them to, but more in the way that Scarab couldn’t keep his frown from how tired he was; he hesitated a bit before speaking. He tried to remember what he had proposed to himself that rainy day. “I got stuck… working.”

A small, gentle “Oh” escaped Prismo´s mouth, so quickly Scarab almost didn´t quite catch it, he stared down at him, and before he could think too much about it, he talked;

“Do you need a ride?”

“A ride?” Prismo´s head quickly shot up, eyes almost glowing with how the warm light of the building reflected on them, his tone didn´t quite disguise his surprise and confusion, he also didn´t think too much before agreeing. “Yeah… Yeah, totally.” He didn´t think about it at all. Because that´s just what a normal coworker does, right?

Scarab didn´t say anything, in his mind cursing himself for offering such a thing so abruptly, but well, here he was, pressing a few buttons on his key, a ‘beep’ was heard from across the parking lot, as he made his way between the cars Prismo followed behind him without much hesitation, though for a few seconds he stayed a couple of steps behind, to text Cosmic.

‘dude if u dont see me tmrw i totally got murdered by scabab. xoxo’

Scarab was already inside the car and ready to leave, he honked for Prismo to turn around, and his eyes shot up to a dark wine-red Continental Bentley that was beside him, of fucking course, that car practically screamed Scarab, he opened the passenger´s door and stepped in without much thought, waiting for Scarab to get out of the parking lot to actually start talking.

“So, where am I taking you?”

“Oh, I live downtown, near the wizard-city subway station-” Prismo answered, a little bit distracted with the details of the inside of the car, a few papers stuck onto the passenger seat mirror, and a little air freshener in the form of a beetle, it was as clean as everything Scarab owned, speaking of him, he seemed quite lost with Prismo´s vague directions “Y´know Sammy´s teahouse?”

“I am… familiar with it.” Scarab spat out those last sentences, taking his eyes off the road, just for a few seconds, to look at him.

“My apartment is just a few streets down from that place,” Prismo didn’t bother to question Scarab’s tone, hell, the man probably had beef with half of the world, and even that was an understatement, Prismo leaned into the gentle breeze of the night, still feeling a little bit drowsy even though he slept through his entire day, he decided to distract himself to avoid falling asleep.

His eyes automatically moving beside him, he stole a few glances at Scarab, he analyzed him, kinda, from his dark, tight belt to his furrowed grey-ish brows, and Scarab’s undone red tie, probably moved by the chaos of his day. It was little moments like this that made Prismo slightly appreciate the unlikely charm of his coworker, with the moonlight covering Scarab in a pale blue glow, he could almost blend in with the rest of the sky and the dark of the night.

He looked like how Prismo imagined businessmen when he was a child, all stiff and sharp. But it was kinda nice.

The rest of the ride was a comfortable silence, one that Prismo was growing accustomed to, when he wasn´t threatening him Scarab was quite peaceful, something that he could expect of everyone but him, but still, it was nice. Scarab was surprised by how quiet Prismo had gotten, stealing some glances at him in between traffic lights, always moving his eyes whenever he was close to getting caught staring at him, mostly at his face, he had a nice face, maybe that was why Scarab was staring so much at him, yup, nice face.

After a few minutes they reached Prismo´s apartment, it wasn´t that far from his office, but definitely very far from Scarab´s home, but Prismo didn´t know that, he stepped out of the car, bending down a little to reach the window that was still rolled down, he smiled at Scarab, “Thanks for the ride Scrabby, really, you-”

“It was nothing.” Scarab cut him off, with such a rushed and gentle tone Prismo didn´t think it was meant to be an offense, plus it was late, he was probably really tired, he stayed staring for a few seconds, gently brushing the edge of the window, still with a smile plastered on his face.

“See ya tomorrow, for real this time-”

Scarab didn´t know what to do, he had just arrived at the office, still a bit empty since it was early, he had walked alone to his cubicle and there he saw it, a periwinkle-blue box was sitting on his desk, adorned with a yellow ribbon and drawings of stars, apparently hand-drawn, with a post-it note, with the same wobbly font Scarab was starting to dread.

“Thx for the ride :)”

He already knew who had put it there, he unconsciously gulped and opened the box with a gentle sway, inside there was a set of macaroons, all of different flavors and colors, again, an eye sore in his pale and monotone desk, still, this wasn’t what had him surprised, instead it was the fact that Prismo had arrived earlier than him.

“Hey, Scarab!”

And speaking of the devil, Prismo appeared behind him, almost making Scarab jump out of fear, good thing he didn´t scream. “Prismo, what does this-”

“You already opened them?” He leaned his head over Scarab´s shoulder, careful not to touch him, one of Prismo´s hands peeked over, and Scarab was thinking of slamming him with his cane if he came closer, his hand grabbed the box and took one of the macaroons.

“That!-” Scarab pawed and lightly punched Prismo’s arm, moving away from him with a disgusted look and leaning against his desk. “-Is what I wanted to ask about, what are these for?”

“It´s on the note, dude.” Prismo didn´t mind the punch, he continued to chew on the pastry and took a seat on his chair, already turning on his computer, he went over the drawn stars on the box with his finger, smudging one of them and pulling out a yellow marker to try and fix it “Huh, these didn´t really dried out-” he muttered to himself.

“But-” Scarab didn´t know how to react, or well, he did, but that could get him sent to an HR meeting, and nobody wanted that, except maybe Perry, that guy´s a freak. He let out a frustrated groan, his hands traveling across his own face. He stayed quiet for a few seconds and began to tighten his tie, his voice laced with something dangerously close to softness.

“You´re no good for me, Prismo, I can´t self-indulge like this.” Scarab reached for the box, smudging most of the stars Prismo had drawn, and grabbed one of the macarons. Scarab didn’t like sweets, but the simple fact that Prismo had taken time to draw those same stars Scarab had just smudged made the macarons taste somewhat better.