"Damnit!" Pickle exclaimed.

Pickle and Soap were playing a fighting game together, and Soap had beat Pickle for the third time in a row. After finding out about her love of video games, Pickle quickly became friends with her through them and started playing them with her during the day.

Soap was skilled with a lot of the games they played, better than Pickle, at least. It had been nice to have someone else to hang out with even if he often lost to her. They had even become good enough friends that Pickle opened up about Knife to her.

Well, not voluntarily at first. She found out when Knife decided to surprise Pickle by heading in his room by opening the window himself, only to find Soap cleaning up. Pickle showed up just in time to explain before she ran and told OJ that Knife was breaking and entering.

...He may have also accidentally told her about his massive crush on Knife.

"Hah! I win again!" She exclaimed. "You weren't kidding when you said you weren't good at fighting games."

"Hey! I'm not good at any games!" Pickle joked.

Soap laughed and put down the controller. "We should take a quick break, my thumbs are starting to hurt.

"Alright." Pickle picked up the soda he had on the nearby table and started to drink it.

"Soooo... I haven't heard about him in a while, how's it going with you-know-who?"

Pickle stopped drinking and thought for a moment.

"...Knife?"

"Oh!"

Not much had happened. They kept going through the same routine of Knife hanging out in Pickle's room or Pickle sometimes leaving the hotel, and having the occasional gentler moment where they'd brush hands or say something sincere that he swore had to mean something but could never be sure. Same old, same old.

"Well, everything's been pretty much the same. Just been hanging out like normal."

"Hm... Have you thought about opening up to him? About your feelings?"

"...No. Well, I mean, I've thought about it, but I don't think I'll do it. Like, I might-"

Soap interrupted him. "Pickle, you should be honest with him. I told you, he won't think of you any different if he doesn't feel the same, and if he does, then that's even better!"

Soap patted him on the back reassuringly.

"You've really got nothing to lose, just... listen to your heart."

Pickle sighed.

She was probably right. He doubted Knife would be upset with him, and there were at least a few signs pointing towards him feeling the same.

He was getting pretty tired of lamenting the fact that he could have told him or done something every time Knife left his room.

"...Yeah, you're probably right. I'm going to try to tell him soon, I guess." Pickle sighed.

"You'll tell me how it goes?"

"I mean, besides OJ, you're the only person I can. But, yeah."

Soap smiled. "Well, if you need encouragement, I'm always happy to offer some!"

Pickle smiled back. "Thanks, Soap."

"Of course! Now, let's get back to this game, I'm ready to win for the fourth time in a row!"

Knife sat in the forest on top of a rock, hands covering his face with his elbows resting on his knees.

His feelings were becoming unbearable, he just wanted to let all of it out. It was easy to channel his thoughts about the game and the drama with all the people in it, but this was different. It was personal. He hadn't felt this way for anyone in a long time, in fact, he wasn't even sure if he ever had. And not even just in the romantic sense, Pickle made him comfortable being the closest to his fullest self and made him happier than anybody else.

He wanted desperately to know if all this time he'd broken rules to spend time with Pickle was anything more than a boredom cure to him, if he felt anything whenever they'd sit a bit too close or when they'd hold hands for a moment when Knife led him to spots on the island he'd never been to before.

He felt his chest ache and his heart flush when he thought about Pickle, he wanted to give him the world, he wanted to tell him he loved him and that he deserves better than the life he's gotten, he wanted to tell him he's handsome and charming and wonderful, and he just wanted to hold him and kiss him, and...

He just wanted to say,

"I'm in love with Pickle!" Knife yelled.

He had gotten so lost in thought that he hadn't realized he had stood up and said that out loud; emphasis on loud .

He slapped his hands onto his mouth and began frantically looking around for anyone that could have heard him.

It seemed the coast was clear.

Until he heard the sound of leaves rustling.

Knife turned around to see Lightbulb, peeking out from behind a tree, staring at him.

Knife froze in place, mortified.

"What's up, blade-bro?" she said as she walked out from behind the tree.

...

"...Did- W-why are you out here?" Knife stammered.

"I could ask you the same thing! What are you doin' screaming in the woods?" Lightbulb exclaimed.

Knife just stood there, face blank, despite panicking on the inside. Did she even hear what he yelled? He decided to turn around and ignore Lightbulb, hoping she would leave on her own. She cleared her throat.

"Pickle?"

Knife froze again, and after a moment of considering whether to threaten her or beg for her to not to say a word about it, he gave up and slowly collapsed down onto the grass, covering his face with his hands.

Lightbulb hesitated for a moment, but walked next to him and sat down.

"Don't sweat, I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"...Then why don't you just leave?" Knife growled.

"Well, I'd say you were bottling up a lot if it could make someone tough as you scream their feelings like that."

He kept quiet.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No." Knife snapped.

Lightbulb cocked her eyebrow.

He sighed.

"...Fine."

Knife sat up, crossed his arms, and looked away from Lightbulb. He sighed again, as she just sat and stared at him patiently.

"He's really cool and sweet, I guess. I like him a lot, more than anyone."

He felt awkward telling her this. They weren't even friends.

"I sorta wanna tell him, but it might mess up things between us."

Lightbulb nodded. "I get what you're saying, that's no fun at all. But you gotta believe that he's still gonna like you even if he doesn't like-like you. And you can't just keep bottled up forever, you feel?

Knife gave her a look of judgment for the way she phrased it, but just rolled his eyes and turned away again.

"Don't tell anybody." He threatened, pointing his finger at her.

"I gotcha!"

Lightbulb stood up and began to leave.

"...Thanks." Knife muttered.

Knife turned around just enough to see her walk backwards and finger-gun him with a click of her tongue, and walk into a tree immediately afterward. Knife snickered quietly and turned back around.

Despite her phrasing, Lightbulb did have a good point. This was exhausting, he should just say something about it and get it over with.

Begrudgingly, he promised himself that he would try to tell Pickle the next time he saw him. That, of course, didn't stop him from being terrified of the worst outcomes from doing so.