When you’re giving up an addiction, the important thing is to do something creative every day. You’ve got to feel as if you’re filling the void in your life with worthwhile activities; stuff that will help you grow as a person, and show your addiction that you’ve got balls and you mean fucking business.

And that’s why I’ve decided to write some romantic Portal fanfiction.

Her velour was heaven upon his cladding.

As she slid him sensually downwards, he savoured the last lingering touch of her hands. If he could have spoken, he would have moaned. However, he could not speak, because he was a weighted cube measuring exactly 1 metre by 1 metre by 1 metre. A cube with a heart.

This clinically tiled room was colder than death, but her touch was warm, like the furnace that haunted his nightmares, but sweeter; oh so very sweet. Look at her now. So serene. She paused for a second, fixed him with her morbidly expressionless gaze, and then fired her weapon towards her feet. Drunk with ecstasy, the cube watched her drop straight through the floor and disappear.

And here she was again! Shooting out of a tiny yellow oval far above him, majestic against the tile of the distant ceiling, firing as she flew. Her body arced a glorious streak across the room, struck the wall slightly to the left of the burning blue portal, and fell fifty feet to the floor. She swivelled momentarily on her axis. Then, in a flurry of sparks, she was gone.

The cube was deeply in love. His heroine had touched him, carried him, loved him, and now she danced across the sky for his pleasure, teasing him with the grace of her body. He would wait for her until she returned; wait forever if necessary. He could hardly do any different, since he was just a cube.

The lady never spoke, but sometimes he fancied he could hear a voice echoing in his mind. Here it came again. As she burst out of the orange portal and struck the wall for the nineteenth time, he was sure he heard a faint ethereal “CUNT!” reverberating around the chamber. What could it mean? Ahhh, who could decipher the unfathomable hallucinations of love. Not he, since he had absolutely no comprehension of speech, being – as has already been established – merely a cube.

Again she flew, and again she fell. The cube was beginning to wonder when her dance would end. It had been more than an hour now. But wait – was she altering the steps? Indeed she was. The orange portal blipped a few feet to the right, and out burst his love once more, this time carving a new trajectory of grace across the sky. She hit the wall again, fell fifty feet, and landed in a tank of toxic waste. “FUCKING GOBSHITE COCKSPANKER”, echoed the ghostly voice. The waste bubbled murderously. Oh no! She was drowning! If only the cube could help! If only…

…Oh. There she was, unharmed, carving a new trajectory of grace across the sky. The cube was beginning to wonder when her dance would end. It had been more than an hour now.

Sometimes, he suspected that his love for her was driving him a little crazy.

He recalled the eternity of solitude before her arrival. How long it had been since he first awoke? It was impossible to know. Nor had he any idea of the nature of this place. He only knew that he was alive; that he felt. For what seemed a thousand centuries, his world had been little more than a claustrophobic plastic tube blanketed with the sad, sweet hope of release. There had been so much darkness. Then one numberless day the harsh halogen lights had flickered on, and suddenly a hatch below him had opened, and out he fell. In that blinding assault of light and substance, she was the first thing he set his eyes upon, and immediately her silent beauty and bizarre footwear had enraptured him.

He first knew her sweet touch when she stepped on him in order to reach a high ledge. It had made his heart fly. The rest of him flew shortly afterwards, when she flung him with tremendous force against a security bot, sending it screaming into a gaseous abyss. Such violence made him feel complete. He loved her. He would absorb countless tirades of heat-seeking rockets and shield her from a billion flying energy testicles if it meant she would hold him close once more.

Here she came again! For the eighty-sixth time, she blasted through the heavens, and this time her aim was true. Sailing through the blue portal, she vanished, accompanied by a distant echo of Fucking Finally.

Silence descended. Where was she now? Had she abandoned him?

Seconds later, a door opened behind the cube, and out she came. The lady was coming for him. She could have left him forever had she wanted, but no! Surely this was proof of her love. He would have sighed, were he not an inanimate plastic cuboid designed for pressing down on switches.

She picked him up, and the feel of her skin against his ergonomically moulded shell sparked tiny explosions of bliss. He had never known love before, and now his dainty pink heart swelled at the thought of the impossible joy he had been granted. As she carried him towards the glowing shaft marked “incinerator”, the little cube felt more happy than he had ever felt in his short life.

He had finally found a true friend.

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