#kiwiddle

And indeed it was. Feeling the need for a change of pace, he had exchanged his yellow, red-striped bowtie for one that was green with yellow stripes.

"You know how I feel about green, you piece of scrap."

"Scrap?" Clock merely grinned as he gripped his sword. "A scrap indeed, only after I kill myself from having no more fun because you're dead."

"Ehehehe, I knew this would be fun." Dancing back, Notepad tipped over a cup and grabbed all the pencils that spilled out, holding them between her fingers. 

"You know you won't win, don't you see? It's your turn to die, so don't you dare flee." As he swung out, Notepad easily dodged him and stabbed outward in an attempt to go through his heart. Successfully slicing away the tips, she retreated to her other hand and began defensive attacks, trying to dodge until he left a weak spot.

And there it was. "Bad choice, your methods are very uncreative! It must be the-"

Suddenly, she felt something swish so close to her face that it could have opened a wound in her cheek. In that next instant, her hair was cut off.

"...green." She looked down to her hair, the rainbow locks on the ground curling up.

"There, I think I won. Just like I said, so be lucky I didn't make you bleed red."

The words didn't process in her mind. Her hair, Notepad's most expressive point, the pinnacle of her creativity, was on the ground.

Her eyes began to stain, the ink going down her cheeks. And instantly, Clock felt guilty.

"Ack. Um..." This was awkward, wasn't it? Clock bit his lip and tried to go and leave her alone, but he felt an arm around his neck, dripping down onto his clothes and a single pencil digging into his flesh.

"Don't you even dare." Feeling the bowtie come off, he watched as it was completely scribbled on, distorting the original color.

This wasn't a good situation to be in.

Kneeling down to her level, Clock slowly hugged her. Feeling awkward, he held her a little tighter, and he noticed that her breathing was heavy. She was mad about this, and while their fighting usually ended with one of them "dying", this was a completely different situation. 

"I'm sorry, you know." The words were a strain to get out for Clock, considering he never apologized for brutally stabbing her through the heart on multiple occasions.

"I bet you damn well are." Notepad huffed, before hugging him back. Clock didn't end up caring about the dripping ink at the moment, more that she was gonna be okay.

"...Do you wanna torture the boys to take your mind off of things?"

"Can we do it together?"