Chapter Text
“I’m well-aware I can never be like you.”
It was surprising that Boxten kept his voice steady as he forced himself to hold Glisten’s gaze. His key spun as he focused on not playing music in the middle of their exchange; it would only make things more harder for him.
“So the second-best thing is to be with–”
He cut himself off. From Glisten’s perspective, it must have looked intentional — and honestly, Boxten wouldn’t blame him. But no, it was just his courage bailing on him. Such great timing (not).
Glisten was clearly expecting something grand — Whatever the music box said next had to be worth the anticipation. I need to tell him...but what if he rejects me…?
Well, it’s better than keeping him in the dark, his consciousness argued. Just say it, you coward!
Boxten inwardly sighed, but he couldn't deny that his notions were correct. He'd been feeling this way for months, perhaps a year or two; might as well express it before it's too late. “With…you.”
Silence.
The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity; if it had really been that long, Boxten wouldn't be shocked.
He fought the overwhelming urge to turn and flee. Have I said too much? He thought. Or not enough?
Glisten stood still, which made Boxten wonder if he broke him. It had happened a few times, but Glisten always swiftly reverted to his charismatic, confident self. Besides, Glisten malfunctioning is as rare as him not wearing makeup.
As if connecting back into reality, Glisten blinked and blurted, “W-what?”
I started this, I have to finish it. Boxten huffed. Why did it have to be so excruciating though?!
“W-with you.” his mouth felt dry. Even so, stopping now would not be ideal. “I want to be with you,” he rubbed his arm, “because I…love you.”
Stillness settled between them again, leaving Boxten alone with his worries. This was a mistake! He dropped his focus to the ground. Why would he ever want to date someone like me? Everything’s going to be awkward now, and–
A gentle touch pressed against his chin.
Boxten froze. The unexpected touch sent confusion rippling through him…until realization struck.
His head was guided upward–
–straight into Glisten's soft, adoring gaze.
“Me too.”
“M-me what?” Boxten asked, in spite of him already knowing the answer. He simply wanted to hear that sweet tone once more.
Glisten giggled, his eyes gleaming with endearment. “I love you too, my dear Boxy.”
Boxten couldn't believe it.
Glisten liked him back? Winning the lottery felt more plausible than this.
Glisten’s hand slid from Boxten’s chin to his cheek. “What’s wrong? Didn’t think I’d like you back?”
Boxten swallowed hard. “Honestly…yeah.”
Glisten shook his head with a fond smile. “I’d be a fool not to fall for you.” he wrapped his arms around Boxten's shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. “I’m yours, and yours only.”
Never in Boxten's life had he imagined hearing those words — let alone directed at him. That was the kind of thing reserved for television shows and movies. Had he accidentally stumbled onto a film set?
…No. Glisten’s voice carried true emotion, so that can't be it.
Boxten was just lucky.
The luckiest toon ever.
Glisten’s hold on him grew even tender, as if Boxten was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. Boxten barely had time to register the affection before Glisten spoke again.
“You know, Box,” he mused, drawing back to meet his gaze again. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”
Boxten slightly angled his head to the side. “Which– which is?”
Glisten smirked.
Heat rushed to Boxten's face.
Glisten's arms tightened around him in the gentlest way, his touch as warm as a blanket enveloping him. With one last affectionate look, Glisten closed his eyes, leaned in, and–
“AAAAAAAA!”
Boxten yelled in his bed while covering his face with his hands. “What the hell am I doing?!” he curled into a ball as he laid down on his right side. “Why am I imagining something so…so far-fetched!” he flopped onto his other side; can't believe the only time he had so much energy was when he was tossing and turning after having a fantasy. Where was this vigor during his sporting events? Did he merely have to be down-bad?
He groaned. “Just another stupid daydream…”
"Just another" was putting it nicely. He's been having these delusions for several weeks. It could be a recurring nightmare at this point.
He remembered the day like it was yesterday: him and Glisten standing backstage following a performance. He had almost told him his feelings, but he chickened out. If his bravery hadn't disappeared, Boxten would have confessed on his birthday. One heck of a birthday present if he does say so himself.
…A present does not automatically mean that the receiver will like it, however.
Boxten had plenty of crushes growing up — all of them ended in rejection. He’d known Glisten for three years, longer than any of the others. He should be brave enough to tell him…but what if the cycle repeated? What if Glisten solely saw him as a friend?
He didn't want to ruin what they have.
So he chose to keep his emotions about him to himself (mostly. Poppy knew, but it was a given. She was his best friend) and changed the subject, which was a mistake because Boxten was now screaming for the second time today, and probably the thirteenth time that month. “I’m an imbecile…!”
He searched around his bed till he found Pengu, his penguin plush. He reached for it, bringing its face close to his. “Do you agree with me, Pengu?”
No response (obviously).
Boxten resumed speaking regardless. “I knew you'd say that.” This wasn't his first time conversing with his stuffie; he supposed he had gone insane a long time ago.
He hugged it, positioning the top of its head underneath his chin. Glisten had gifted him this penguin plush around two years ago. Since then, it has become one of Boxten's most valued possessions; it even helped him sleep!
The way he clutched it left no doubt who he was picturing at the moment.
…
He wished it was truly him.
Random thoughts suddenly infiltrated his head. Holding hands with him would be wonderful. It occurred once, at the Halloween Horror Nights event. That simple gesture calmed him down, and he swore the scare actors had left them alone due to their unwillingness to disturb their moment (but then again, he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, too focused on Glisten holding his hand).
Cuddling with him would be nice too. There was one time he accidentally snuggled up to Glisten in bed (at some point, he hugged his friend’s arm and entwined legs with him, believing him to be Pen– wait, Pengu had short flippers and wasn't even that tall…how the fuc–). Fortunately, Glisten didn't seem to mind, even drawing him into a warm embrace. It had been so embarrassing, yet so comforting, that Boxten couldn't help but crave more.
I want him…I want him to kis–
Oh, shut up, Box! He chided himself. It’s never going to happen! Except for the holding hands and cuddling part, it already happened… he shook his head; not the point he was trying to make! You're just making a fool out of yourself! He held Pengu impossibly closer; it was astonishing the plush didn't burst.
He remained motionless for who-knows-how-long, his only movements being breathing, blinking, and readjusting his grip on his beloved pet penguin.
As his mood gradually became relaxed, two notions crossed his mind. The first one involved reading a book. There were stories he could reread, all of them on his shelf only a few steps away. But the longer he considered it, the more he grew against it. He didn't have the strength to walk since he had spent it all on behaving dumbly both physically and mentally.
The second option was to go to sleep, which was, in all honesty, a better idea. After all, falling asleep was an excellent method to keep oneself from doing anything idiotic.
Already in a resting position, he nuzzled his head against Pengu as he let out a soft sigh. Then, he closed his eyes.
He immediately opened them as soon as he heard a notification from his phone.
He pushed himself up, his energy rising from the dead. Is it him?!
As Boxten shuffled over to his desk, he prayed it was an actual text. Please don’t let it be from one of those annoying website ads I can’t figure out how to turn off… He swiped the device, scanned the message, and saw it was from–
Poppy.
Boxten frowned for a moment, then broke into a grin. It wasn’t Glisten, but it was his best friend! He always enjoyed talking to her. Now, what did she send him–
is glisten dead
His heart stopped.
WHTA
jk
Boxten had never felt such relief in his life. Still, he couldn’t let it slide. He needed to ask Poppy why she’d pulled such a cruel prank.
Why must you do that
to get ur attention
It surely did.
He shifted spots, now leaning against the headboard. Once comfortable, he grabbed Pengu, placed it on his lap, and resumed typing.
Weird way to start the conversation, Pops
thank u
—
i got a question to ask
Boxten tilted his head. That was a sudden switch, but anything was possible with Poppy.
What is it?
has he been texting u?
Yeah? Why’s you asked?
Did something happen between them? He hoped not… He would hate to see his friends at each other’s throats.
glisten hasnt been posting on his social media accounts
—
its very sus
—
hmm
—
u said hes been texting u?
—
what did he say?
Boxten furrowed his brows.
Isn't it a breach of privacy to disclose it?
nah trust me bro
—
whats the general stuff u 2 "just friends" chat about
"Just friends".
Poppy, this was not a good time to tease! Especially when I've spent the past hour thinking about...him.
Well, I supposed he talked about writing songs
and?
Asked about my day
and?
Gave me song recommends
:)
Pop if I give you more you’ll be knowing our whole conversation
ok fine fine
—
so it seems hes talking as per normal…
—
why tf is he ghosting me
Glisten would never ghost you!
Well, he would never ghost me…
man its like youre in my walls
—
yeah he still texting me lmao
—
well it clear he talks to u more
Which means absolutely nothing! Boxten shouted in his mind. I'm just his friend! Moreover, him messaging you frequently would cause toons to draw some conclusions. Wait, that would imply that they were looking over his shoulder… Ah! Nevermind!
Is this all you wanted to asked, Pops?
nawp
—
i got a suggestion
Boxten watched with curiosity as she typed.
go to his house
His eyes widened, and he almost dropped his phone. If he did, it would hit Pengu on top of the head. Poor Pengu!
He responded hastily, not bothering to check his sentence.
WWHTA DINYYO MENA BYHAT
omg
An understandable reaction. Poppy has seen awful spelling from him before, but hardly over text. Why? Because he has autocorrect enabled. It occasionally missed a few words, sure, but it had never been this bad.
i mean
—
go to his house and check up on him
Can’t I just message him??!!
yeah but wheres the fun in that
It saves him from being a buffoon!
and box i know u wanna see him
Okay, was Poppy in his walls?
Well he’s my friend
—
Of course I would like to see him
in the most non-casual way ever
Poppy.
Boxten could practically hear her laughing and banging on the table (if she was within range). Thank goodness they weren't on call; he had no idea how to deal with her banter.
dont u remember the past few weeks?
Oh, don't remind him…
we were at the cafe one time and u were drinking hot chocolate right?
—
u spilled it all over urself
—
and u flinched so hard ur knee banged the table and almost spilled my cup
He sighed.
A few days after the "failed confession" incident, Boxten and Poppy visited their favourite cafe. Boxten had been so distracted that when he lifted up his drink to take a sip, it missed his mouth, spilling one-third of the liquid onto his shirt and pants.
His reaction was quiet but intense: a fast kick to the table. Poppy’s strawberry milkshake toppled from the shaking, and luckily she caught it just in time before it fell onto the table.
The stares of the surrounding toons seared into him — so much so that he could’ve sensed them even with his eyes closed. Thankfully, Poppy calmed him down and checked if he was alright, wiping up the mess in the process. There was no way he could’ve handled the embarrassment on his own.
and then a couple-lot of days later
—
we were at the park
—
u know for fun
—
to look at pigeons and penguins
It was an inside joke between them (plus Glisten), don't mind it.
we were walking up some stairs
—
and then u FELL UP
—
UP.
—
how ironic given how DOWN-bad u r
STOP
—
PLEASE
The wrath of a best friend is more powerful and terrifying than anything else he could conceive.
:)
—
okay my point is:
—
U KEEP THINKING ABOUT HIM
—
i know u were scared to face him when he and i had to film an episode together
—
so u texted us saying youll stay home and read some books
—
sir u have read all of ur books 20+ times
—
why do u want to reread them if u know the plot by heart :)
She had a good point there…
There were times when Boxten and Poppy didn’t appear in the same episode — uncommon, considering they were often treated as a "pair." If one was there, the other usually was too. Still, even on those rare days apart, they’d show up together and hang out during breaks.
A few weeks ago, there was an episode about bows (Vee-focused episode), and Dandy had to bring back every single toon who wore a bow somewhere on their body. There could have been someone who was a bow, but Boxten was not there, so who knows.
Speaking of not being there…yes, he skipped the studio that day — he simply couldn’t face Glisten. The memory was still fresh, and he needed space to collect himself.
After a while, he eventually returned to spending time with Glisten, accompanying him to a recently opened candy store (the chocolate there was delicious! No wonder the mirror loved it!).
box r u hiding from me :(
Oh, right. He was supposed to respond to Poppy. He sort of zoned out there, thinking about the past and all.
Sorry Pops
—
Just baffled that you were correct
AH-HA
—
come on u should really go see him
—
for ur heart <3!!!
Boxten stared at the message before sighing and switching off his phone. He hugged his legs, bringing Pengu nearer to him.
He gazed at the penguin plush and suddenly remembered that it wasn't the only gift he had received from Glisten.
He turned to the left.
On his desk beside the window, there were blue roses and purple scabiousas sitting in a white vase. Glisten had given him those on his birthday (as normal friends do), and Boxten had been caring for them since then. He had watered them this morning and knew he'd have to do it again soon.
Next to the flowerpot was a makeup brush. He received it from Glisten a long time ago — perhaps like a year or two? During their second ever hangout. Boxten wasn't into cosmetics, but his friend was. So why did he give him that? Well, it was because the mirror said, quote-unquote, “The bristles are soft and comforting.” Although the explanation was silly, he was also correct. Boxten sometimes found himself rubbing the bristles with his thumb or brushing them against the back of his hand whenever he was stressed. Such a weird fidget toy, but if it works, it works.
If Glisten was willing to buy items for him and spend time with him, then…
Boxten made his decision.
Okay, okay, I’ll see him
YIPPEE
—
have fun!
—
also pls ask him to upload smt
—
im SO bored
And with that, Poppy went offline.
Boxten stretched and got out of bed, gently placing Pengu in the middle of the mattress before heading to the kitchen for the water pitcher. He figured that after taking care of his plants, he’ll make his way to Glisten's house.
Oh, he can't wait to see Glisten again.
***
Time Skip — an hour and a half later
Glisten lived in a condominium, which meant Boxten had to get a visitor pass.
His friend once vaguely mentioned the front gate guard rarely changed unless he was sick or busy, and judging by today’s booth occupant, Boxten somehow figured this wasn't the usual guy.
Getting a pass should've been easy; he had a solid reason for being there, but the guard was really, really committed to his job. What should've taken five minutes stretched to fifteen, all because the guard had a bad feeling about him — as if Boxten’s chocolates from GALORE!!! was some sort of threat. Did this toon scrutinize him and thought, Oh! Can't have someone getting diabetes!
By the end of it, Boxten was sure he had beaten a personal record: talking to a stranger longer than he anticipated. The bad news? His social battery was fried. Hopefully, he’d recharge enough by the time Glisten opened the door. Imagine Glisten answering and seeing Boxten standing there completely silent — he’d probably think Boxten died and came back as a ghost.
When he stepped into the premises, he paused to take in the scenery. Wow, he forgot how beautiful it was — like a city in a garden. No wonder Glisten chose to live here. With all its perks, he would never need to leave. Perhaps Boxten could move in with him so he could experience the benefits too!
Ah-ha, but like, that’d never happen.
He walked down the path until he reached an intersection. To the left was a trail that led deeper into the complex (there was a dog park somewhere there); to the right stood a tall building. He didn't dare count the floors, not wanting to remind himself how high Glisten lived.
He scanned the area, occasionally glancing to the left. This looks like it. He strolled into the block and found the lift conveniently on the first floor. How nice.
When he arrived at the fourteenth story, he stepped out and kept his eyes on the ground, navigating by memory. It should be on…this side. He stuck close to the wall, rounded the corner, and there it was: Glisten's house.
He raised his hand to ring the doorbell, then hesitated. Wait, is this really his place? He could text Glisten to confirm, sure — but he wanted to surprise him, like how the mirror always did with him.
Sometimes, Glisten would swing by Boxten’s apartment unannounced to hang out. (Once, he visited right after Boxten flipped his flat upside down trying to hunt down a spider that vanished. He had never seen Glisten so nonplussed in his life). Poppy would join them now and then, and the three of them would spend hours playing games or binge-watching shows and movies.
Anyway, Boxten tapped his foot. He’d already triple, quadruple, quintuple-checked everything. Nonetheless, uncertainty lingered. Should he ring the bell, or second-guess everything again?
I’ve come this far. He sighed. I don't wanna go back. Also, I’d look like a weirdo if I just stand here. He inhaled deeply, steeling himself for the worse, before pushing the button.
Ding-dong.
The faint echo of the sound chimed inside. He stared at the door, patiently waiting for his friend to answer. The notion of this being a stranger’s residence rushed back into his mind. Oh well… if a toon he didn't know was on the other side, he could say he was at the wrong address — ow, but the humiliation...
Five seconds went by, then ten, thirty...soon, a full minute passed. Boxten narrowed his eyes and inclined his head. …Where was he?
Boxten decided to try again.
Ding-dong.
The heavy silence that came afterwards caused uneasiness to prick at Boxten's skin. Glisten wouldn't take so long to see who was at the door, would he? The most likely explanation for not responding would either be that he was asleep or engrossed with something.
…Wait, was the mirror even inside?
Boxten cursed under his breath and facepalmed. He should have thought this through before visiting his friend. One more time. I'll try– one– more time, then I’ll leave. With a scoff, he reached out to ring the doorbell–
The door suddenly opened.
Boxten jumped at the noise and hastily placed his hand down. He peered at the toon in front of him. Golden, pink, black, grey– huh? The guy there was blatantly Glisten (thank goodness) — with his signature colors and all — but what were the other two, black and grey, doing on his body?
Another thing he noticed was that Glisten was not wearing makeup (surprisingly), nor was he donning his usual large pink bow. Instead, there was a smaller version of it tied neatly around his neck, kind of like Boxten's bandana. Second, he wore a black long-sleeved shirt with grey sweatpants.
Boxten would have thought of Glisten’s outfit as hot if the mirror hadn't looked so cold. Seriously, was he shaking?
From the way his friend was leaning against the door, it appeared as if he was about to collapse at any moment. His eyes were half-lidded, but once he saw the music box, they widened. “Box–?!”
He coughed.
“Wait–” he coughed again, pushing the door towards him. Boxten stood still, blinking. Why was Glisten’s voice so hoarse? He didn't sing all night, did he?
Glisten returned to him, slightly reopening the door. When he beckoned for him to enter, Boxten nodded and stepped in.
“Glist, is something wrong?” Boxten asked as Glisten closed the door. Glisten shot him a troubled look before speed-walking away. Boxten frowned. “Glist…?” Did I interrupt him doing something important? He shook his head and headed over to the couch to settle down. He should wait rather than draw conclusions so quickly. Besides, Glisten would inform him if he was mad, right?
…Right?
Well, friends can argue. However, what did Boxten do to cause Glisten to behave this way? Going to his house uninvited? He does it to me. He told himself. He would be a hypocrite if he was irritated by it. He pondered harder, humming. Did I accidentally wake him up? Given the exhausted expression on his face, that seemed possible.
He let out a sigh, eyes drifting to the floor. This was not how he had expected his day to go. I should apolo–
“Boxten, sorry for not greeting you earlier.”
Boxten jolted and lifted his gaze to see Glisten standing in front of him.
The music box flushed — how could he not? It was his crush, right there! Glisten looked absolutely stunning in his attire — so much so that it reminded Boxten of the daydream he’d had earlier that morning.
…Boxten wondered if he should confess just so he’d have an excuse to kiss–
“I’ll do it now: Hello, Boxy.”
He snapped out of his reverie, masking his flusteredness with a raised eyebrow, acting as if he were merely puzzled — which to be fair, he was. Glisten’s mouth hadn't moved, so how did he speak? Confusion aside, a tinge of red remained on his cheeks from hearing his nickname being uttered, even if it came from an artificial–
OH.
“Are you using Google Translate?” Boxten blurted, glancing at the phone Glisten was holding, not caring about how ridiculous it sounded.
Glisten rolled his eyes and typed into his device. “No, but I'm using a random text-to-speech website. The woman's voice keeps throwing me off.”
Boxten chuckled. “I see. Well, it would drive me crazy, too.” Okay, he’s not angry with me. Still, why did he use it instead of speaking?
“Uh, Glist,” he clasped his hands together. “Is your...throat okay?”
As soon as the question was voiced, he fought the urge to facepalm. Clearly, it wasn’t. Why else would he be using text-to-speech? For fun?
Boxten wanted to bury himself in the pillows and suffocate.
Fortunately, Glisten replied without seeming agitated. “Yes. I've got a sore throat. It hurts when I speak.”
“Oh, I'm…sorry to hear that.” Boxten needed to stop overthinking and start learning how to express his concern correctly. That sounded so forced.
Nonetheless, Glisten bowed his head in gratitude.
“I already took medicine.” Wow, he typed fast. “But it doesn't seem to last very long. Luckily, I got another check-up tomorrow.”
Boxten tilted his head. “Another one?”
“I had one last week.” Glisten elaborated. “It wasn’t too bad then, so the doctor just gave me something mild. But now...I think I need something stronger.”
“Wait, you've been having a sore throat for a week?” If Boxten were him, he believed he would just die to save himself the trouble.
Glisten grimaced. “Yes, I've also been feeling cold. EVEN IF IT'S 35°C OUTSIDE.”
Boxten was in the sun a few minutes ago, and boy, was it hot. If Glisten, of all things, was feeling cold, then how did he make it through seven days?
Boxten finally understood why Glisten opted to wear those clothes: to help him stay warm. Immediately, he regretted having those attraction comments. He’s suffering. He’s suffering and I found it seductive?!
Now that he was thinking about it, the bow around his neck doubled as a scarf, which he thought was smart (and adorable, but that sort of went against his remark, so…).
“Okay, Box, I literally can't stand here anymore.” Glisten's shaking became more noticeable as the text-to-speech progressed. “I'm getting a blanket and Glimmer from my room.”
…Glimmer?
“Glimmer?” Boxten repeated aloud.
Glisten smirked and left.
Boxten watched Glisten go into his bedroom. Curiosity washed over him; the way his friend stated it sounded like a name. But who in the world was Glimmer?
When Glisten returned, his inquiry was answered.
A weighted pink comforter draped around him, making him resemble a king in his robes. His arms held a white ball of fluff. As Glisten approached, Boxten managed to make out four legs and a tail. The fuzz had pointed ears, a pink noise, and blue and yellow eyes– Wait, was this...?!
The visage on the floofy-round-thing confirmed it.
Boxten beamed. “You named the plush cat?!” He had given that stuffie to Glisten on his birthday; of course he squealed as if the mirror walked in with a live one.
Glisten went next to him, grabbed a pillow, and sat down, placing the plushie on the cushion. “Yes. Why wouldn't I? You named your penguin, right?”
Did Glisten plan that response? If so, kudos to him; it made sense to Boxten's question. After the music box nodded, Glisten deleted his sentence and began a new one. “Glimmy’s soft fur has been keeping me warm.”
Boxten laughed. “Aw, how sweet!”
He extended his hand to pat Glimmer on the head, but Glisten brought it nearer to him. Boxten blinked at Glisten as he typed an explanation. “I recommend not touching the cat. I don't want you getting sick.”
Boxten slowly nodded. “Ahh, I see. Alright.”
If he couldn't pet Glimmer, the next best option was to admire it. He eyed it up and down and noticed a blue bow around its neck, similar to what Glisten had. Boxten assumed he would make the cat plush match his color scheme, so why did he choose blue?
His attention darted to his bandana.
…Okay, perhaps he understood why.
Anyhow, what did Glisten say earlier…? Right, he was sick — should've been obvious with the cough, sore throat, and coldness. Hmm, it made handing him Festivities kinda awkward– oh! Yeah! The chocolates! One of the main reasons he was here! Of course he'd forgotten about it!
“Glist, wanna know why I came here?” He hoped it didn't sound too abrupt. It felt like he skipped a couple lines from a script.
“To spend time with me, obviously.” Glisten responded with a flourish, and Boxten could practically see stars sparkling around him.
Boxten gave a short laugh. “Yes, but there's another reason.”
Glisten stared at him intently as Boxten withdrew candy from his pockets. “I've got you some Festivities. Sorry if it’s, uh,” he examined it, “sort of crushed…you don't mind, do you?” He sheepishly grinned.
Glisten shook his head. “Not at all.”
Boxten sighed with relief. “I'm glad.”
The mirror switched his focus briefly to the treat before returning to his phone to type something. Glisten's speed made Boxten wonder if his friend played those "fastest typer wins" games as a kid. I wouldn't be surprised if Glisten had the highest ranking on a random thousand-year-old website. He thought fondly.
Glisten finished his sentence and tapped on the speaker. “Could you put those in the fridge?” His eyes flickered to the direction of it. “I'll eat them once I'm better. If you like, you can consume some of them. I have lots of them already.”
Honestly, hearing lengthy statements from him with no pauses was uncanny, but Boxten understood why he had to frame it that way. If he said it one by one, it would take longer than necessary.
“I'll be right back.” With a quick wave, Boxten stood up and went to the kitchen.
When he stepped inside, he made a beeline towards the refrigerator. He expected Glisten to have something sophisticated, so he was shocked to see a simple grey block with two doors and a few magnets: a microphone with music notes around it, a fancy looking bow, a huge star, and a–
Chibi penguin?
…
Okay.
A piece of paper was pinned up in the middle, and when Boxten approached, he discovered it was the electricity and water bill. Curiosity tugged at him, but he resisted the urge. That is not why I am here…! Boxten wasn't a busybody, and he wasn't going to become one now (moreover, he did not want to see how much Glisten spent…it might give him a heart attack).
As Boxten gripped the door handle, he worried the inside would be empty — as if the mirror had eaten 90% of his food before going into hibernation. Thankfully, when he opened the fridge, the interior was packed.
A full fridge was usually a good sign, but the contents mystified him.
Glisten seemed like the type to eat healthy, so why were there chocolate, cakes, cupcakes, candies — literally all the sweets he could think of — in his refrigerator? He recognized the importance of having a treat every now and then, but this…was he living off these?! And Glist wonders why he has a sore throat…
Boxten spotted rows of plastic water bottles, two cartons of chocolate milk, and even packets of syrup and jam probably from fast food. Most of the items came from Glisten’s favorite bakery: Best-Baked-Bites, while others were from convenience stores.
At first glance, it appeared like a mess. However, this was Glisten, nothing was ever out of order. The desserts were neatly categorized, with cakes on the bottom and smaller treats like candy up top. It almost looked like he was playing fridge Tetris — and winning.
His gaze drifted upwards, and that was when he saw it: a whole section was filled with Festivities. His jaw dropped. He knew Glisten liked the chocolates from GALORE!!! but did he clear out the entire shelf? The ones in Boxten’s hand were minuscule in comparison.
A sentence echoed in his head: “If you like, you can consume some of them. I have lots of them already.”
You don't say. Boxten thought, eyeing the chocolates. His friend suggested he could eat them if he wanted, and to be honest, he was becoming hungry. He hasn't had lunch, after all.
… However, something prevented him from unwrapping the snack.
He turned back towards the living room. Glisten sitting on the couch, still wrapped up in the blanket with his cat plush on his lap. Glisten was absentmindedly rubbing the ears of the feline, and as if sensing Boxten staring at him, he looked up.
The music box quickly averted his gaze. Right, he’s waiting for me. Why am I standing here rambling about sugar…?! He hurriedly, yet neatly, placed the Festivities with the rest of them. He decided that he’ll save the chocolate for another day. He could eat them now, yes, but he felt that eating them next to Glisten would make him jealous, or worse, trigger a sudden craving.
Never underestimate Glisten’s sweet-tooth.
He rushed back towards Glisten. “Sorry it took so long.”
Glisten tapped his phone and, without taking his sight away, replied, “It’s fine.”
Boxten frowned. Am I really that predictable? “Glist, uh, do you have any food besides…” he gestured vaguely to the fridge.
Glisten once again went on a typing spree. “Yes. Somewhere in the back of each shelf, you can see the ingredients I use when I cook.”
“Isn’t it inconvenient to take out the ones in the front to get the ones at the back?” Boxten blurted before he could realize it.
Glisten shrugged.
He’d probably been doing this for years, why am I judging? Boxten scratched the back of his neck, deciding to switch the subject. “Okay, um, have you eaten lunch yet?”
Glisten shook his head.
Boxten blinked. “You haven’t?”
Despite the dumb question, Glisten nodded and typed on his phone for extra measure. “I haven’t eaten yet, Boxy.”
“What do you usually eat when you’re sick?” Boxten inquired.
Glisten thought about it for a moment. “Well, I've been ordering a lot of soup since I don’t have energy to cook.”
“Then I’ll make that.” He turned around and walked back to the kitchen, throwing a “Wait here.” over his shoulder. When he was facing away from Glisten, he internally facepalmed. “Wait here”…as if Glisten would get up and follow me!
He entered the kitchen and stood there for a while, pondering what kind of soup to cook. Hmmm … When he inspected the cooking space, he realized that he had to rummage through the cupboards and drawers (maybe the fridge too?) to retrieve the essentials and ingredients he needed. He could have asked Glisten where they all were, but he didn't want to bother him — plus, it would be awkward if he went back and questioned, “Hey, Glisten, where’s your pot?”
In the end, he settled on preparing mushroom soup. He loved that dish! His parents would always make it for him whenever he was unwell. At some point, Poppy even learned the recipe from them. Ah, the fond memories of his best friend making soup for him back in their college days…
If he enjoyed it, then Glisten would surely enjoy it too.
He stretched his arms and got to work.
***
Time Skip — forty-five minutes later
Thank goodness Glisten had the ingredients I needed.
Some of the stuff was at the back of the fridge, so Boxten had to take everything out one by one, then carefully place them all back into the same spot. He hoped he didn’t ruin the layout; envisioning Glisten opening the refrigerator and finding himself lost because the music box accidentally arranged something on the wrong level made Boxten feel terrible.
He pulled out two bowls from the plate rack and poured the soup into them. Then, he brought the bowls (plus spoons. It would be embarrassing if he forgot those) out to the dining table (he did two trips. He was not going to risk carrying both at once). When he was done, he turned to Glisten and–
Oh.
He’s sleeping. Boxten realized, strolling closer to him until he stood beside the couch. Glisten was facing the back of the sofa, his whole body wrapped in the blanket except for his head. If Boxten leaned in a little, he could see Glimmer’s head sticking out of the comforter, tucked snugly under Glisten’s chin. He looks like a toon burrito. Boxten notioned, chuckling to himself.
Gently, he reached over and shook what he guessed was Glisten’s shoulder. “Glist? Glisten, the food’s ready.”
A couple of moments passed before he stirred. Boxten waited for him to move again, but when he remained still, he tried for the second time, albeit more hesitatingly. “Glisten–“
“Okay, I’m up.” he grumbled — well, that’s what Boxten believed he said. He coughed in the middle of his sentence, so it sounded like: “Ok-AY, I’rm urMP.”
Instinctively, Boxten said, “Sorry.”
Glisten fanned a hand to him as he got up, setting his blanket and Glimmer (Boxten supposed he didn’t want to mistakenly dirty them) on the couch behind him. He grabbed his phone and typed something as he made his way to the table. “It’s alright. I’m used to the pain in my stomach.”
If that was an attempt to cheer him up, Boxten was unsure whether he succeeded.
He followed him and sat down next to him. As Glisten peered at the bowl's contents, Boxten spoke to provide some context. “I prepared mushroom soup. I– actually, I think you already know what's inside of that.”
Glisten nodded, still gazing at it. The mirror seemed distant, but Boxten didn't mind. After all, he was sick, and he'd just roused him from what appeared to be a peaceful nap.
“It’s something my parents used to make for me.” Boxten continued. For a second, Glisten’s expression changed — how could he describe it? Somber? Desolate? Forlorn? When his countenance returned to neutral, the music box became even more perplexed. Oh well, perhaps he had a similar experien– wait.
Boxten realized how his words could have been interpreted.
“Wait– no, they’re not dead if that’s what you're thinking!” Boxten frantically waved his hands.
Glisten rolled his eyes and blinked at him.
His panic shifted back into confusion. Is he waiting for me to say he can eat? Boxten wondered. If that’s the case, then… “Er, go ahead,” he smiled. “Try it!”
Glisten moved his focus onto the mushroom soup and picked up the spoon. When it was halfway to his mouth, Boxten realized something. “Glisten,”
Glisten halted, sliding his eyes to Boxten without much of a tilt of his head.
Boxten cracked an awkward grin. “Um,” he motioned to the utensil. “The spoon’s upside down.”
Glisten’s eyes flickered back towards the cutlery, and acting as if nothing had happened, flipped the spoon so it was facing the right way and lowered it down to the soup. Boxten couldn’t help but think, Was he really that exhausted? I’m pretty sure I put the spoon in correctly. He paused. Unless I somehow messed it up… he shook his head. Don’t dwell on it, Box. At least Glisten’s first taste wasn’t metal!
Glisten scooped up the broth and gave the spoon a short check (presumably ensuring there was actually something on it this time). Afterwards, he blew on it and finally sipped it.
His eyes widened.
Anxiety hit Boxten like a slap to the face, and as if a gun went off, the music box’s mind began to race. Was he allergic to one of the ingredients? Did I add too much salt? Does he not like it? I knew I should’ve taste-tested it–!
Glisten went back for seconds.
…Huh?
Boxten watched dumbfoundedly as his friend devour his lunch like he hadn’t eaten for days. He wasn’t the finest cook — the only thing he knew how to make were meals like sandwiches, eggs, and soup. Did Glisten seriously enjoy something from a guy who has the most basic cooking skills ever?
“Glisten?” Boxten cocked his head. “So, um, do you like it…?” with what Glisten was doing, it could’ve been evident, but Boxten wanted to make sure. Who knows, maybe Glisten was being nice?
When Boxten saw the mirror giving him a thumbs-up, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Hooray, he didn’t poison Glisten!
Boxten, now relaxed, turned to his own meal and slowly took a sip.
Wow– okay, alright, he absolutely outdid himself here. This was genuinely good. Did someone possess his body while he was making this? Oh gosh.
So preoccupied with his food, he jumped when he heard Glisten’s text-to-speech. “May I have some more, Boxy?”
He looked up and noticed his bowl was completely empty. He glanced at his own soup, which still has around 90% remaining. Did Glisten finish it that quickly? I’m certain I started eating two minutes ago. He shrugged it off and answered, “Of course!”
As he stood up, he took the bowl from him and asked him a question. “Oh, by the way, do you want something to drink?”
It took a while for Glisten to reply. “Sure. If it isn't too much trouble, can I have some lemon water with honey? The honey’s in the cabinet, and I’m presuming you know where the lemon is?”
“Yep, I do.” Boxten confirmed before leaving.
With how often he went to the kitchen, Boxten could probably navigate it with his eyes closed (though for obvious safety reasons, he never tried). When he had completed creating Glisten’s requested beverage, he carried it to the table along with his freshly filled bowl of mushroom soup. He placed them neatly down in front of the mirror, then turned around to fetch his own glass.
By the time Boxten returned and sat down, Glisten had already picked up his drink and taken a sip.
“Nice?” the music box asked.
Glisten nodded, prompting Boxten to smile.
“I’m glad. I just kinda threw stuff together and hoped for the best.” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
Glisten gestured towards Boxten’s bowl and glass, and Boxten understood what Glisten was attempting to convey.
“Okay, okay,” still wearing a grin, he continued eating his own meal.
***
Time Skip — after lunch
Once Boxten was done washing the dishes, he returned to the living room. He approached Glisten (who was seated on the couch with his trusty blanket and cat plush) and sat down beside him. As soon as he was settled, he heard a sentence coming from Glisten's phone. “Welcome back, Box. What should we do now?”
Boxten tilted his head. “You’re– you’re asking me?” Oh yeah, as if there’s someone else here! What happened to his common sense? Did it catch Glisten’s illness and took the day off?
Glisten tapped his device again. “Yes, I am.”
Boxten peered at him quizzically. Glisten hadn’t typed anything new, and yet the response seemed natural. “Glisten, do you have–”
“Multiple tabs open? Yes.”
He stared at the mirror.
“You see, you were gone for a long time.”
“I was gone for three minutes.”
Glisten blinked — finally, Boxten took him off guard!
Glisten quickly deleted his words and typed something. “Time moves slower when you’re sick.”
“More like you become a prophet in exchange for losing your voice.” Boxten remarked flatly.
Glisten rolled his eyes.
Glisten most likely already knew Boxten meant it in a friendly way, nevertheless, he grinned to ensure his friend understood his intention. Glisten looked at him for a moment before giving him a small smile of his own.
Gosh, his smile is so pretty…
Boxten blushed, and then blushed even harder when he realized what he was thinking. He tore his sight away because if were to continue making eye-contact with him, he would get redder and redder until he exploded. “Urm, yeah, anyway,” he switched the subject, praying that Glisten didn’t pick up on his flusteredness. “We should, uh, we should…”
He didn’t have to look at him to know Glisten was gazing at him patiently. If Glisten wasn't silenced by his sickness, he would probably be asking, “We should what?” in his sweet tone of his — goodness, just thinking about it is making him blush more!
He fidgeted his thumbs. “We should…” Is “We should” the phrase of the week or something? His notion then drifted into the days when he or Poppy were unwell. What did they do to pass the time? “Hmm, we…” The answer struck him like a lightning bolt. “Oh, I know! Do you wanna play One-Word-Story?”
Glisten put his head on the side.
“You understand how to play, right?” Boxten inquired.
Glisten nodded and proceeded to type. “Yep, but I can't talk. How does this work?”
I should've thought of that… Boxten hummed. “Let’s see…you type down the words — you have multiple tabs open after all — and I’ll record the ones we say on my notes app. When we’re finished, I’ll say what we’ve written. Is that okay?”
Glisten considered it for a while. “Sure. Who starts first?”
“You.” Boxten grinned.
Glisten cast him a mischievous expression before he typed in the first word. “There.”
“Wait– wait, Glist, I haven't even opened my notes app yet!” Boxten exclaimed, giggling despite himself. When he got on the correct screen, he resumed from where Glisten had left off. “Okay, you said ‘there’, right?”
His friend gave him a thumbs-up.
“Alright, after that…'once'. 'There once'.”
They went on and on, throwing random words here and there. Boxten resisted the urge to skim back the sentences, preferring to keep it a surprise. However, as the story progressed, the tougher it became to not succumb. He was pretty certain that the only reason why he hadn't given into the impulse to read was because he wanted to share the same flabbergasted reaction with Glisten.
After writing the last syllable, Boxten strolled up and glanced at Glisten. “Ready?”
“Always.”
“Alright– pfft, oh gosh, what is this?”
Glisten raised an eyebrow.
Right, don't leave him in the dark! Boxten cleared his throat. “‘There once was a boy named Bowie. He liked eating very good and sweet hotdogs–‘ why not corn dogs?”
“Let’s try something new.”
“Haha, okay.” Boxten responded. “‘His favorite place to be in was–” he squinted. “In a place…where many toons go to this place–” He burst out laughing. “Why did we keep saying ‘place’?!”
Glisten shrugged and smiled, undoubtedly amused by it too.
Boxten continued. “‘This location was called the super amazing dot’– who said ‘dot’?!”
Glisten motioned to him.
“I did?!” Boxten pointed at himself.
“Yes, as in ‘full stop’. You also said ‘place’ twice.”
Oh. “Ah-haha, my vocabulary is limited.” Boxten admitted, rubbing his arm. “Er, next paragraph!” he moved on, not wanting to linger on his horrendous English.
“‘The super amazing sold hotdogs. Bowie goes to this spot every Tuesday.’ Why randomly on a Tuesday?”
“Whatever occurs on Tuesdays should be considered a phenomenon.”
“What kind of Tuesdays are you having, Glist…”
Glisten just stared.
Guess you want me to interpret it… Did Glisten used to (or heck, even now) eat a lot of hotdogs?
Boxten shook his head and spoke the next line — that reverie was getting too funky. “‘One Tuesday, he went there and found no hotdogs.’” he gasped. “Oh! I wonder what happened to them!”
“Me too. I’m seriously getting invested.”
“This is going to become New-York’s bestselling book.”
“Agreed.”
“‘He was very sad and decided to go on a journey to find the missing hotdogs.’ Wow, a whole hero’s journey for hotdogs?”
“You can’t deny that Bowie is motivated.”
“Very motivated.” Boxten added. “‘He went to many regions, however, he discovered absolutely nothing.’ Aw, how sad!”
Glisten despondently nodded.
“‘He became even sadder. Suddenly, a hotdog fell from the sky.’”
“Intrigued, genuinely. What happens next?”
“Getting to it,” Boxten replied, grinning. “‘He looked up and saw more hotdogs. He is very surprised.’ Yeah, you don’t say.”
He glanced at Glisten, and the way his friend was leaning in, waiting in anticipation, made Boxten regard him as cute (he then screamed internally. If only he could say it aloud! But alas, too corny). Glisten was basically begging for him to proceed, so that’s what the music box did. “‘A person descended. This person was his–’” he paused, not because it was bad, but because he wheezed from the reveal. “‘Pen–’” he tightened his grip on his phone, his smile becoming wider by the second. “‘Penguin–’”
He pressed his phone to his forehead, unable to contain his laughter anymore. “Oh my gosh– Glist– I can’t– I seriously can’t–” he doubled over, his subsequent words dissolving into incoherence.
He cackled for who-knows-how-long. He hadn't heard anything from Glisten, but then again, he’d start coughing violently if he were to talk. After letting the last chortle out, Boxten lifted his head and wiped a tear from his eye. “S-sorry about that, Glist.”
He studied Glisten’s expression, and it seemed the mirror was charmed from his silly outburst rather than annoyed.
Glisten shrugged. “It’s fine, Box. Your laughter only makes me curious about what comes next.”
“Alright, alright.” Boxten returned to his phone. “‘The penguin made penguin sounds.’ What sound does a penguin make?”
Glisten swiftly searched it up and played an audio of it.
“Sounds like a mix between a vehicle and a dinosaur.” Boxten commented.
“Dinosaur train.”
Boxten chuckled.
Boxten resumed. “‘Bowie translated it as ‘I got you.’ Then the bird ascended. With that, Bowie ate the hotdogs happily. The end.’” he tapped his foot. “This is the greatest story I’ve ever heard.”
“I second that.” Glisten added. “This has exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. Perfect for a book.”
“I would write it if I had good spelling and grammar.” Boxten sighed. “Maybe in another universe…”
“Maybe.” Glisten echoed thoughtfully.
Glisten pulled his cat plush closer to him, scratching its head as if it were a real animal. “Mind if I read it again?”
“Oh, not at all!” Boxten handed his device over to him. Glisten took it and began scanning through the sentences. The story wasn't long, but it was enough to keep him entertained. In fact, it seemed he enjoyed the plot so much that he started giggling.
Giggling until it transformed into a coughing fit.
“Glist–?!” Boxten hurriedly patted his back as an attempt to ease it. Glisten coughed harder, and Boxten could imagine the pain coursing through his throat, chest, and stomach. I wish I could help…but how?! If there was a trade to transfer Glisten’s sickness to him, Boxten would gladly accept. He’ll do anything to make his friend feel better.
Somehow, Glisten managed to type something, although slightly misspelt, “i’? Alive I'm (9& dying”
Okay, perhaps “slightly” was the wrong word to use.
“Alive. It dead” Glisten tried again. “Not*”
“You look anything but alive, Glisten!” Boxten dropped his phone on the couch and instinctively reached out to hold his hands. Glisten blinked at him, surprised, as Boxten continued. “What can I do? What do you need?”
The silence settled over them like Glisten’s blanket — but heavier and suffocating. Glisten merely stared at him, his eyes wide. Just as Boxten believed he had lost his voice forever, he finally murmured, “Some lemon water with honey again, please?”
In spite of his understanding that the reason Glisten talked was because both of his hands were occupied (Boxten’s hand was even on Glisten’s device), Boxten’s face heated up — holding hands while Glisten spoke to him in that soft tone was enough of a combo to knock him out. “Um, sorry– uh, yeah, sure, yes.” Boxten sheepishly let go of him. “I’ll– I’ll go get it for you.”
As Boxten rose up, Glisten added, “You should wash your hands with soap — a lot of it. I coughed into my palm, you know.”
“Oh, I see.” Boxten hoped his embarrassment wasn’t obvious. “I’ll, ah-haaa…take note of that.”
“In the meantime, I’ll go take my medication. Meet you back here?”
“Okay.”
They parted ways.
Five minutes later, they returned to the living room.
Glisten was already on the sofa, so Boxten approached and offered him the beverage his friend had asked for. Glisten accepted it and drank it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Boxten shot him a grin as he sat down beside him. “What should we do now?”
Glisten took another sip of his water before he answered, “Early dinner?”
Boxten frowned. “I just came from the kitchen, Glisten.” He loved taking care of him — he truly did, but he couldn’t deny he was getting a little annoyed by his constant movement between the kitchen and the living room.
“Nevermind, something else then?” Glisten suggested.
Boxten shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He pulled out his phone and switched it on. “What do you want me to make?”
“Perhaps–“ a cough interrupted him. He briefly held a hand in front of him before bringing up his own device and typed into it. “Perhaps porridge.”
“Alright. Ingredients are somewhere in the kitchen, right?”
Glisten nodded.
“Got it. Sit tight, Glist, the food will be delivered shortly.” He smiled at him, then stood up and walked away.
Once he reached the kitchen, he searched up how to make the food on his device — as he mentioned before, he wasn’t a great cook, and he didn’t exactly learn how to make meals as a hobby. Making mushroom soup was easy for him, yes, but it was passed down to him by his parents (Poppy knew the recipe because she was an honorary family member, either that or she just had privileges due to being his first friend) and even that took some practice (he kept overcooking it).
He read what he needed to do and got to work.
A couple of minutes passed — possibly ten or fifteen, and honestly, he found it strangely relaxing. Most of the time he simply had to cook stuff in a pot, and he had learnt via trial and error how not to burn them.
He was busy checking the next steps when he suddenly heard the sound of dragging behind him. Initially, he thought it was coming from the pot, however, the noise kept getting closer, and closer, until eventually curiosity and bafflement overcame him. Deciding that the food wouldn’t randomly disappear, he turned around to figure out what was causing that–
“Huh?!” Boxten staggered back (luckily not into the stove). “Glist– Glisten, what are you doing here?!”
“I was bored.”
“So you strolled here with your drink, phone, blanket, and stuffie?”
“…Yes.”
Oh my gosh. Boxten mentally facepalmed. Although he was vexed that Glisten chose to break his one rule (“sit tight” was evident, wasn’t it?), he couldn’t deny that he was glad to see him there. A little company was nice, after all.
“Well, since you’re here now, how about you…” he searched around till he came across a stool he somehow hadn't noticed before. “Sit on that and watch me make porridge?”
Glisten nodded and walked over to it, and as he sat down, he randomly said, “You know, it's like” — cough — “watching those cooking shorts on YouToon.”
Boxten understood what he meant, and honestly, he was flattered — well, the ones he’d seen were really good, so hopefully Glisten was referring to those. “Haha, I mean, I wouldn't call myself someone who knows how to make food appetizing–”
“Your mushroom soup was appetizing.” Glisten pointed out. “Why else would I ask you for thirds?”
Boxten flushed at the casual compliment. “Uhhhh,”
Glisten chuckled. “I’ll be waiting patiently for the porridge.” He sipped his lemon-honey water, pulled the blanket closer to him, and hugged his plush cat (his phone was also there, Boxten didn't forget).
Man, I wish Glimmer was me. Boxten returned to his cooking. This is the punishment the universe decided to give me, huh. Because I did a 180 with my confession. He fought the urge to dip his hand into the contents of the cooking pot. Why is it so mean…
“Boxten–” Glisten's voice spiked with alarm, and Boxten heard him stand up abruptly. “Your hand–!”
My hand–? OH. At the last moment, he drew his hand back from the half-finished porridge. Guess he was losing the battle with his subconscious, gosh dang it. “I’m fine, Glist!” He glanced at him, catching his concerned expression. “I was just…putting my hand over it, to feel the heat.”
Glisten narrowed his eyes at him before sitting back down. “If you do that one more time, I’ll be the one to make it and you’ll sit here.”
“You got it.” Boxten awkwardly turned away.
As he shifted his focus to the food, his heart thudded harder in his chest. The way Glisten stated it — serious, protective — was…woah.
Boxten heaved out a long sigh. Just cook the damn porridge… The longer he was distracted, the more chances he might dump the entire meal over his head.
***
Time Skip — forty-five minutes later
“Here’s your food, Glist!” Boxten slid the filled bowl to his friend. “Oh, and I got you some lemon water with honey again!” He placed the glass beside it. “It seems like it’s easing your sore throat and cough.”
“It is.” Glisten confirmed. “Thank you for making it for me. It’s helpful and tasty.”
Boxten brightened. “You’re welcome!”
“I’m gonna keep typing though ‘cause my coughs are still crazy.”
“Ah-ha, alright.” Boxten sat down next to him. “Make sure the spoon’s facing the right way.”
Glisten rolled his eyes and held his utensil.
Boxten gripped his own and brought the contents of the porridge into his mouth. A tiny bit landed on his tongue, causing him to put the spoon back down with a clang. “Ah-ah-ah-ah-AHHHHHH-I forgot it was hot!”
Glisten grabbed Boxten’s glass and lifted it towards him.
“Thanks.” Boxten took it and drank it. Immediately, the pain began to cease. He set it down on the table. “I forgot how porridge hot can be.”
Glisten blinked.
“I mean, uh, I forgot how hot porridge can be.” The burn’s messing with the order I say stuff now?! What was this? Some sort of curse? Eat it and in return damage your tongue and worsen your English? He was already awful at it in writing terms, please not in verbal terms too!
“Wait for it to cool. I don't want you losing your taste buds.”
“I know…” Boxten groaned. “Oh, that was stupid, wasn't it? I made this and just forgot that it was hot?”
Glisten stared at his phone, unarguably debating on how to respond. Boxten waited for ten seconds to receive his answer. “Sometimes I forget to unwrap the wrapper of the cupcake I’m eating.”
Displeasure transformed into bewilderment. “What?”
“Every cupcake has a wrapper. I check it several times before purchasing it, and yet, I still end up forgetting about that one detail.”
“Why are you telling me this?” It wasn't like Glisten to suddenly start sharing an embarrassing moment with him, what was going on? If this was a story, he would be considered mischaracterized.
“To let you know that even perfect people make mistakes. I trust you enough not to use this against me.”
“You’re right, Glist. I’ll never use this against you.” He cast him a reassuring grin. “This, this just feels a little rand–” the first half of Glisten’s explanation clicked. “Wait, are you calling me perfect?”
Silence.
The stillness stretched for so long that it felt sound had fully vanished from the world.
Without warning, Glisten slammed his phone down with such force that if he threw it on the screen-side, it would've cracked. “Point is: it’s okay to be a fool once in a while.” Glisten coughed and sipped his drink, adding to the already awkward scene.
A long while passed until Boxten said, “I see. Thanks for your input.”
“You’re wel–” he abruptly paused, opting to nod instead to avoid another cough attack.
By now, the porridge had cooled down, so Boxten ate it.
Ah, this was delicious! Boxten was absolutely cooking (literally and slang-ly) today!
“How is it?” Boxten asked, hoping the question would help lighten the mood.
“Good.” Glisten replied in a quiet tone.
Charming, clumsily, softly…no matter what voice he’s using, I always find it so– Boxten shook his head. Stop it! Focus, Boxten! He imagined pointing a large stick like a sword at his mind. Don't give me these notions now! As if it would actually listen. It has, well, a mind of its own.
“Boxy, I got an idea.”
Boxten observed him inquisitively as Glisten stood up and picked up two remotes from the table next to them. Glisten handed him one while sitting back down, using the other to switch on the television. “Let’s watch something as we eat.”
“Like what?”
“Anything of your choos– ERGHH.” that would've been charismatic if Glisten wasn't at risk of being jumped by his coughs.
Boxten’s thumb felt around the buttons before he put it down. “The last time I was at your house, I also chose what to watch.”
“And? You weren't forcing me.”
“I know, just…it feels kind of unfair.” Boxten pushed it towards him. “Here, you select what to watch.”
Glisten peered at it, then shrugged. “Okay.”
He took the remote and navigated to YouToon, instantly going to the search bar. “What’s the name of the musical you wanted me to watch?”
Boxten cocked his head. “Huh?”
“You know, the musical version of your favorite book series.”
“Huh?!” Glisten remembered?! Boxten had mentioned it once, when he and Glisten had to care for the rock-dogs, Pebble and Coal. Honestly, Boxten’s memory of that experience was 90% him cuddling with Glisten that night.
Glisten smirked. “Tell me, Boxy, what’s the name of the slime tutorial?”
Date me. Boxten thought, letting his subconscious pass his "very threatening" stick-sword. Just date me, please. Glisten wanting to watch one of his favorite musicals? Boxten was right to be absolutely down-bad for this man.
***
Time Skip — two hours later
When the performance/video ended, Glisten leaned towards Boxten. “Boxy, your musical recommendations are always the best.”
Close, close, CLOSE. Boxten smiled at him, praying his nervousness wasn't blatant. “Thanks, I’m sure if you were to share one with me, I would be saying the same thing.”
“Hope you do.” Glisten grabbed his phone and checked the time. “It’s 7:50PM, anything else you want to watch?”
“No? Why?”
“Oh! Here, take a look at this.” He gripped the remote that was in between them and switched from YouToon to Toonflix. “There’s this show I want you to watch. It's a favorite of mine.”
“Your favorite show?” Boxten perked up. “What's it about?”
“You shall see~” the mirror’s sing-song tone elicited another rush of red across Boxten’s face.
Boxten hummed — was it possible to voice crack while humming? Because that's what he did. Fortunately, Glisten didn't seem to mind.
Glisten selected the first episode and they began watching.
First of all: forty-five minutes for each episode was insane. Usually, Boxten sticks to cartoons (what? Adults can enjoy them too!) that were twelve to twenty minutes long. By the time Boxten finished a season of Glisten's favorite series, a whole month would be over.
Nonetheless, Boxten found himself enjoying the contents that were being displayed. A romcom drama? This complements Glisten perfectly. The angst, the romance, the comedy, the story? Goodness! No wonder the mirror loved this! And this was only the first episode, how peak can the show get?
The first episode's credits rolled, and Boxten glanced at his friend, expecting him to move on to the next, but instead, he saw him staring at the screen blankly. Right, he’s sick. It probably caught up to him. “Wanna take your medicine?”
Glisten, as if breaking out of a daze, shook his head. “Oh? No thanks, too tired.”
“I can go and get–”
“There’s no need.”
“I insist.” Boxten stated firmly. “And also, I don't want you dying in your sleep.” he got up and strode to the bathroom, whether Glisten refused or not. Healthy Glisten, after all, was the best Glisten!
Luckily, the medicine was easy to find: they were all in a plastic bag. He carried it over and brought it to his friend. “Drink and eat these, I’ll go get water.” He walked away for the second time and came back a minute later. Once Glisten was done, Boxten went to the kitchen, washed it because that's basically his job now, and returned.
Boxten was only gone for a few moments but somehow that was enough time for Glisten to wrap himself in his blanket and clutch his cat plush.
He settled beside him. “Next episode?”
Glisten slowly nodded and tapped the button.
Boxten quietly watched it with a small smile on his face. This was very entertaining! I have the best musicals whereas Glist has the best tv shows. Boxten thought happily. Is there a series that’s both a musical and romcom drama? That would be perfect for us–
He felt something on his shoulder.
It gave a strange sense of déjà vu. Briefly, Boxten was bemused until the realization dawned on him.
He looked to his left and saw Glisten’s head there.
This wasn't the first time this had happened, and heck, they even cuddled on a bed. A mere head on a shoulder could be a piece of cake to handle.
The issue was: the piece was as big as his crush on him.
OhmygoshohmygoshOHMYGOSH. Boxten’s face heated up. What should I do? Continue watching? No, I should stop. The noise would wake him up. He gazed down. But Glisten's still holding the remote! Do I have to pry it off him or something?! I mean, yeah, probably, however, won't that wake him up too–
“Is it alright?”
“What?” Boxten blurted.
“Stay…staying like this…” his arms slipped through the blanket to hug Boxten. A shiver ran up Boxten's spine. “Cuddling with you…is it alright?”
The music box barely registered the words. “I– um.”
“Okay,” Glisten let go. “It’s okay.”
“Wait, wait– Glist,” the show continued to play in the background, currently in a comedy scene. The whiplash was crazy, but he endured it. “No, I– I was…uh.”
“It's okay.” Glisten whispered again. “I love your presence, genuinely.” Despite that, he shuffled away. “But if you don't want to, it's fine.” His voice hinted at no passive-aggressiveness, only warmth. “Goodnight and sweet dreams, Boxy…”
Glisten… Boxten wanted to reassure him that it was alright to be near him, but how? He couldn't even speak without stuttering!
Hmm, what was that thing Glisten did when Boxten accidentally snuggled with him?
…That’s right! Body language.
Boxten moved over to him and wrapped an arm around him. Then, he gently drew him closer. “Glisten, remember when I cuddled with you?”
“...Yes.”
“What did you do?”
"...Embraced you.”
“And tell me, Glist, what did you do just now?”
“...Hugged your arm and pulled away.”
“Well, too bad, I’m a magnet. You’re staying with me.”
“...You’re a what?”
Leave it up to Boxten to ruin a freaking moment.
Fortunately, Glisten’s chuckle indicated that he did not mind. “If I’m sticking with you, won't you get sick?”
“I don't care.” And Boxten meant it. “If I’m catching your cold, I’ll bear with it, with you.”
Glisten stuck his tongue out. “Corny.”
“You like eating them anyway.” Boxten said. “I mean, like, corn dogs.”
Glisten huffed, amused, before resting his head onto his shoulder. He then lifted it up. “Wait,” he draped the blanket over Boxten and went back to his original position. “I don't want you getting cold.”
Glisten placed his plush cat midway so the hind legs were on his lap and the front legs on Boxten’s. “And hey, Box, here’s Glimmer.”
“I thought I couldn't touch it?”
“Rule change. Glimmer’s all yours to hold.”
With that said, Boxten scratched Glimmer’s head, “Aw, so adorable…”
“Agreed.” As if recalling there was background noise, Glisten switched off the television. “There, peace and quiet.”
“And dark too.” Boxten remarked. “Perfect for sleeping.”
“Unless you’re afraid of the dark.”
“Ah-haha, thankfully, I’m scared of heights…Glisten, don't remind me which floor we’re on.”
“I wasn't going to.” and it sounded like he was speaking the truth.
“Alright. Sleep well, Glist.”
Boxten closed his eyes, and there was five seconds of silence before Glisten spoke. “Boxten, thank you for taking care of me today.”
The music box leaned closer to him. “I’d gladly do it again. However, if I have to walk to the kitchen and back…” he winced. “Sorry, but no thanks… I’m gonna have nightmares about it.”
Glisten giggled. “It was a nice workout though, wasn't it?”
“I suppose…”
Glisten once again wrapped his arms around Boxten. This time, it was tighter, yet affectionate than ever. “You’re the best.”
Boxten smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
“You too, have the sweetest dreams.”
For a moment, he listened to Glisten’s calm breaths; the sound alone was enough to make him feel at ease.
His last thought before drowsiness fully took over was: I love you.