So I'm branching off from Kyman and now writing other characters. This particular oneshot/drabble is in Clyde's POV, and is basically a compilation of his thoughts =p
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I fiddle with the edge of my football jersey, mind wandering away from math. I hate math. It has to be the most boring class ever. My eyes find their way to the back of Cartman. It's kind of hard not to. He's the size of a fucking truck. I kinda wish he hadda joined the football team.
Stan's good and all, but Cartman's got manpower. And a chocolate bar! I really like chocolate...It's just sticking out of his back pocket. I bet I could reach it...
I bet he'd break my fingers if I stole his chocolate bar. He's an ass like that. He doesn't need the chocolate. I need the chocolate, dammit! Mom won't let me have any now. She says that it's bad for my teeth, and the dental bills are getting ridiculous.
I think my mom should just get better insurance. Ask her boss for better benefits. I'm still covered, so fuck. She should do what she can so my teeth can be fixed. It's not my fault I was born with a chocolate bar sticking outta my mouth. It's her fault for shoving one in my face every time I whimpered.
Kyle and Stan are passing notes. I shrug and look to the other side of the room, deciding to watch Bebe. Or...rather...Bebe's feet.
Fuck. She's got these damn boots on. They come about mid calf, and they're this really nice tan brown color. I wonder what kind of like...water proof spray she uses...They have a bit of a heel on them, and a big brown rose on the outside. They're fucking hot.
I love shoes. I mean, that's kinda obvious. My dad owns a shoe shop, so I should have a love for shoes. But like...it's like Tweek with coffee. I love shoes.
Especially on people. Cartman has nice shoes. They're sneakers. I don't think he ever wears boots, but he always complains about his feet being wet.
Eventually, I look back at Kyle. My eyes slide from the top of his hat, all the way down his slim little body. He should join track. He's got a sweet body. Looking at him from behind, you could almost imagine he's a girl...
Plus he's got converse on. He bought them himself, and I can see pen marks from where he's been picking at crap stuck to his shoes. They're plain, regular converse.
But on Kyle they're like the freakin' glass slippers Cinderella had. Beautiful, unique. Maybe it's just the shape of his legs.
I look at the clock, smiling when I notice class is gonna be over in about ten minutes. We have gym next.
Gym means Cartman and Kyle have to change their shoes, to more appropriate footwear.
Gym means I'll spend time in the locker room, alone with their shoes.
Gym means that I better bring tissues, cause it was hard last week telling Kyle that I had somehow spilt milk all over the toe of his converse.
It...it wasn't really milk.
*
Short, crappy, I know. But I like it. And the shoe fetish XD In case y'all didn't get that...