Green Hat, Orange Parka
By: Anime Blob
A/N: I have fallen in love with the cartoon called South Park. I decided to write a fanfiction centered around the Kenny/Kyle pairing. So, if you're a fan, this one is for you guys!
Disclaimer: Trey Parker and Matt Stone own South Park.
I wasn't all that special. Okay, so maybe I could spin a dreidel pretty good, but that was about it. I wasn't wealthy; my family had enough to put food on the table. And I wasn't buff; I just had an average, 11 year old body.
But why did you find me special? Why did you always want to be around me?
I mean, all I did was give you our extra leftovers. Sure, your family was poor, but you didn't have to thank me. And I was your friend, sure, but it's not like you were my best friend, compared to Stan.
Yet, here we were, at Stork's Pond, your hand cupped in mine. It sounds gay, I know, but it's the truth.
"Kenny," I breathed, the cold air escaping my lips. Despite the fact that it was summer here, it was still as cold as hell in South Park. I hate it.
But you don't say anything. You're just staring out at the lake, your orange parka reflecting its color off the water. Your hand was still connected to mine, and, to be honest, I think you were just enjoying my company at that moment. But I had to know something…
This time, I turned to face you. I let your hand go, which resulted in a whine-type sound. But it stopped once I looked into your brown eyes.
I felt the urge to bite my nails, if it wasn't for my mitts, protecting them against the cold. "Kenny… Kenny, why do you find me special?"
You smiled. It wasn't the fact that I could see you smile; I could just tell by that look in your eyes. Getting on your knees, you, slowly but surely, made your way closer to me - an inch away from my face, actually.
Now I don't feel all that cold anymore. Instead, I feel warm on the inside. Maybe I should tell Kenny to back off. I mean, dude, people could be watching, and—
Too late. I felt a small amount of pressure on my cheek. Wait—but when I looked up, you were pulling up your hood, giggling as you did so. Did you just do…what I thought you did?
Before I know it, we were back to square one: We're sitting at Stork's Pond, hand in hand, watching the sun go down. What makes me special? I asked myself again. I didn't know; I was only 11. But, perhaps you saw something in me that made us more than just friends…
FIN