Stan's POV, because Stan's perspective is my comfort zone.
Alright, I probably shouldn't have slipped.
Unlike Kyle, I normally think before I speak. And, okay, to be fair, I did that this time, too. I just momentarily forgot that Cartman remembers ridiculous amounts of information about Kyle and uses said information against him. It isn't like I don't have a filter, or anything.
Right, so yesterday Kyle was bitching about how he didn't have enough volunteer hours.
Then Kenny was like, "You should volunteer at the animal shelter with Stan."
Yes, shut up. I know I'm an animal loving pussy-fag, don't remind me.
In fact, I'm so much of a pussy-fag that I remember my boyfriend's allergies. "Nah, dude. He can't. Kyle's allergic to cats."
Retarded, Stan. You are retarded. Eric Cartman has a cat. Fuuuuuuck.
I don't even know how Cartman was able to turn himself into a walking dander-coated lardball. But he totally did, somehow. He must have gone about it pretty well, because it takes a lot to set off Kyle's allergy. It wasn't that bad when we got Kenny cheesed for the first time, but shit. It was ridiculous today.
Oh my God. His nose was running like a faucet. I mean, he was so congested. He actually brought a box of tissues to his desk. And he kept rubbing at his eyes until they got all pink to match his nose. It looked like he had been crying.
Some of his fucking fangirls (I'm not kidding. I'm not. There's a hoard of them, always hitting on Kyle all the time) would come up to him and act all concerned. They'd be like, "Kyle, what's wrong?"
Kyle would mumble, "Um. Just allergies." Sniffle, sniffle.
It was kind of cute, actually.
I've only seen his allergies so bad one other time. In the spring two years ago, when our class took a trip up to some lake. Everything was coated in a hazy yellow-green sheen of pollen, and Kyle was sneezing copiously. I said, "Kyle, I never knew you had allergies." And he remarked that he didn't know that, either.
Because, you know. South Park is too cold for anything to ever be in bloom.
I'm actually starting to suspect that Cartman might have sprinkled cat hair all over Kyle's things, just because he thought it was funny. We weren't around him enough for his being alone to make such an impression.
God damn. Seriously.
Like, a lot of the time when I'm kissing Kyle, we'll just stand there for a while without breaking the kiss at all. It's really nice, actually. But we couldn't do that today, because Kyle couldn't breathe through his nose. So he kept having to break the kiss to breathe. Or blow his nose. Or something.
So weak.
Cockblocked by an allergy.