The small girl with colorful hair sat on the table in the kitchen. She was quite bored at the moment. There was nothing to do. Her friends were scattered about. They were bit shaken it seems. She had only just woken up. A song with a repetitive tune stuck in her head. It was kind of similar to a clock. She saw the youngest one past by and she grabbed his arm.
"Hey, Manny. What's wrong? Why are you guys running about?" She asked with genuine concern. He simply nodded no and slipped out of her grip. She crossed her arms and huffed as he ran away. "What's got those three so shaken up?"
She hopped off the table and walked into the living room. There was nothing out of the ordinary as far as she could tell. She looked up at the clock that was on the wall. She never really thought about it much, but now it's captured her attention. She grabbed Harry's chair and pushed it over to the wall. Harry never really liked it when she sat in his chair, but she's not sitting. She's standing.
When she finally climbed to reaching distance she stop and stared at it. "Hello, clock." She stated. She wasn't really expecting a response. She tilted her head. "Are you the one causing my friends distress? Have you sung to them as well?" She took it off the wall and plopped in the chair. "I do remember something about ticking." The clock responded with rather loud ticking as if to say, 'Yep, that was me.'
She sighed heavily then looked at the clock once again. "Your time isn't right. You can't be broken you're ticking louder then ever." She turned the hour hand and put it to what might have been the correct, but it shot back to the original time it had. "Huh?"
"I would prefer you not do that." A voice said. She screamed. "And you were thirty minutes off." She threw the clock across the room. "Why are you so frightened by me?" The clock, who now had a face, arms, and legs, walked up. "Weren't you a talking object at some point?"
"I was but, I had a face." She looked the clock up and down before hoping out of the chair. She slowly walked over to and stopped in front of them. She was only a few inches taller then the clock, which gave her some sense of superiority. "What's your name, clock?" She asked curiously.
"My name's Tony the Talking Clock." He began. "Though I am not always in the form of a clock."
She frowned. "Do I have to say all of that every time? How about I just call you, Clock?"
"You can call me Tony." He said already a bit annoyed by this child.
"But, Clock has a better ring to it." She whined slightly.
"You can call me Tony." He stated once again.
"Fine…" She pouted. "So, Tony. You say you aren't just a clock. What else are you then?"
"I can also be human like you, child." He looked up at her.
"I- I am not a child." She said noticeably offend. "Just because I'm short and have child like tendencies, doesn't mean I'm a child."
"I would have never guessed." He sighed. For some reason knowing that she was not a child made it worse.
"So anyways…" She pretended like he had never said that. "You say you can become a human as well? Let me see!"
"Why? It's a lot of work and I'm fine being a clock for the time being." He walked around the girl and climbed onto the chair. "What's your name anyways?"
"My name is Paige, but you could also call me Sketch or Sketchbook, and I want to see your human form." She joined him on the chair, making him move to the armrest. "Please?" She asked with the sweetest voice she could manage.
"… No."
"Pretty please?" He glared at her. "Pretty please with cherries on top?" He continued to glare at her. "Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Plea-"
"Alright! Just be quiet!" He slid off the armrest and on to the floor.
"Yay!" She kicked her feet back and forth and waited for him to change.
He walked over and stopped in front of her. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Eventually a blue light surrounded him and after a while he could not be scene. Paige simply stared in awe. Her change was similar, but she never actually saw what it looked like. Nor did she have anyone to show it to.
Soon she saw his human form. Blue skin. Black hair. Kind of cute. No not cute. I guess he's handsome, she thought. But that doesn't matter. She shook her head and hoped off the couch. Then she realized she had to step back to see his face. He was probably two feet taller then her. "Well… you're tall." She said, stating the obvious.
"Yes. I am. Thank you for pointing that out." He picked her up and sat her on the armrest before sitting in the chair.
"Hey!" She turned so she was facing him. "I was sitting there."
"The chair was too big for you anyways." He leaned on the armrest opposite to her. "You'll be fine right there."
"Well I don't want to be right here…"
"If you don't want to get confused for a child, then don't act like one. Nothing you do is helping your case."
She turned around and jumped off the chair. "I don't like you. You're just a stupid clock."
"And you're an immature sketchbook." Maybe he was being a bit harsh. But she was annoying him. What else could he do?
She didn't respond. She simply walked out of the room. But the further she got away he could tell she started to run. Maybe he had upset her. But he could care less, right? He barely knows her. It shouldn't matter to him. She slammed the door to whatever room she went into. Yeah, he definitely upset her. It's not his fault she's annoying.
As time passed the guilt got to him. There's nothing he can do. She doesn't like him anyways. Well that still doesn't mean he can't go in and check on her. He sighs heavily before getting up and following the way he heard her go. He stops in front of a door with small colorful handprints. It just might be her room. It might not.
He knocked on the door a few times. "Paige?"
"I would prefer Sketchbook at the moment." She huffed. "And if you're that dumb clock, go away!"
He rolled his eyes and opened the door. She had retreated back to her object form and was lying on the table where she probably did most of her work. "Your room is rather colorful."
"I like things creative." She said nonchalantly.
"Oh… Well that's nice." He walked in a bit further. "And um… About earlier I'm sorry. I shouldn't believe that there are people in this world who aren't annoying. I should've learned when I did my song."
She sat up and stared him for a bit, several insults on the tip of her tongue, but she decided to keep them to herself. She sighed. "I will forgive you. If that was supposed to be an apology."
"I thought it was excellent." He said with an accomplished smile.
"Shut up." She hopped off the table. "Well. How about we try this again." She closed her eyes and many multicolored lights began to surround her. She was transforming back to a human, he assumed. Hers was like his in a way, but it was a bit more… Creative. Soon she was back to her human form. "My name is Paige." She held out her hand. "What's yours, stranger?"
He looked at her for a bit then realized what she was doing. "My name is Tony." He took her hand and shook it.
"Okay." She took her hand back. "Hm…"
"What is it?" He asked.
"Well, we never really got to know each other much… So I'm wondering what I should ask you." She smiled. "Well there is the usual…" She looked up at him. "What's your favorite idea?"
What an odd question. "Well… I'm not sure… Time, I suppose."
"Time." She tapped her chin. "What's so great about time?" She walked up to him. "Have you ever tried getting… Creative?" She said as she spun around. She soon stopped when she was facing him. "But, not too creative…" She began to walk back to the room where they met.
"Wouldn't being creative involve spontaneous actions? I would prefer to talk about time. It's systematic and predictable." He said as he followed her.
"That's boring." She said as she hopped onto the armrest of Harry's chair. "What fun is it if it's predictable?"
"It doesn't have to be fun." He sat in the chair. "Time is a system. That's all."
"Ah…" She turned around so she could look at him, her feet up against the other armrest.
"So… What's your favorite idea?"
A big smile came across her face. "Mine is being creative."
"Ah, of course. I should have known." He really should have. "You and creativity seem like a perfect pair."
"Why wouldn't we be?" She scooted a little closer on the armrest. "It's so lovely. And it's fun."
"I would imagine." He turned to her. "What does it take to be creative?"
"What? Have you never been creative before, Clock?" She winced after she said that. "… Sorry."
"No… No. It's fine, I suppose." He paused. "And no. I have never been creative, as far as I'm concerned."
"Well I must fix that!" She clasped her hands together. "Maybe we could do some form of art together!"
"How will I find the time?" He honestly would rather not.
"Oh, we have all the time in the world." She attempted to get up but slipped, causing her to fall into his lap. "Oh, dear…" She shook it off. Though she originally wanted to get up she stayed where she was and continued to talk. "I should probably teach you how to get creative. It's fairly easy. Let it come from your heart."
A slight blush made it's way across his face. "Sometimes I don't think I even have a heart."
"We all have hearts. Not necessarily a physical one, but we have hearts."
"What else is there besides a physical?"
She sighed. "I've got a lot to teach you, Clock. But, oh so little time."
"I suppose we could find the time."
She looked up at him and smiled. "Really? You're actually agreeing to this? I haven't taught anyone new in a few years. This'll be fun."
"Under one condition." She looked up at him and tilted her head. "You let me teach you about time."
She crossed her arms and turned away. "Hmp… Fine." She moved on her knees so she would have one leg on both sides of him. "We're going to split mine into two parts. Before and after yours. Because we've got some work to do."
His blush deepened, just a little bit. "Fine, but first I'm going to put you back on the armrest."
"No need." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Carry me back to my room, so we can begin."
She obviously didn't know what personal space was. They have only just met and she's already doing this. But for some reason, he didn't mind. He sighed. "Just hold on tight. This won't be a normal thing. In fact I'm never doing his again." That was a lie.
"Yeah, yeah. Just take me to the room." She said. He got up and carried her to the room she had claimed as her own. "We're going to have so much fun. You'll be creative in no time."
"I'm sure." He said as he put her down.
She picked up a pencil off of her table and pointed at him with it. "Well, Clock. It's time to get creative!"