A/N: Okay, I decided I will add, not just one, but TWO Boomercup stories to the Powerpuff archieve! This one will be super serious while the other, well, won't be as much. And I really have a case of writer's block for some of my stories, so this will jog my small brain, haha.-_-' This one is a oneshot, and the other one is a multi-chappie. Now, since I don't own the 'Puffs nor the 'Ruffs, without further 'ado', I present to you, A Smirk & A Smile.
Boomer downed the bottle of vodka, wincing slightly at the bitter taste and the burning sensation it sent through him as the strong liquid dripped a bit on his new black eye. He smashed the bottle back onto the table, his anger growing. His brothers were just as bitter as the alochol now dripping off the table, if not even more so. They had thought they could kick him out onto the streets for the millionth time this year. But this time was different. It had been five days since they'd kicked him out and they haven't taken him back. Usually, they'd let him in for exchange of a few broken bones and two identical black eyes. They did give him a black eye, but they didn't take him in.
"Too weak, too stupid." were there elaborate reasons for not letting him in. He scoffed to himself at the idiotic reasons. He was their brother. Didn't that matter? Apparently not. But he didn't care anymore. He just wanted revenge. Sweet, ice cold, sweet revenge. And he wanted to give it quickly, but how? He couldn't think of anything good enough for his 'brothers'. Nothing was good enough for them. Nothing. Yet dirt was the only thing good for him. Actually, he was dirt. A big, babbling, blondie, blue-eyed, useless pile of shitty dirt.
A long scratching noise directed his thoughts elsewhere. His ocean eyes looked up to a onyx-haired beauty across the bar. Wait a minute, this wasn't just a regular girl. This was Buttercup Eboncoal Utonium. What was she doing in this sleazy place? Does she even know this was the place people go and make out in the bathroom? His gaze drifted down, his eyes almost popping out at the sight. She was in a tight, leather mini skirt matching her black and green hautler top that made her chest even larger. She was looking for trouble. He knew it.
Her piercing, misty green gaze traveled to meet his own one. A lopsided grin appeared on her face as she teasingly waved her hand at him. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus all his hate into a glare. She just gave him another crooked grin. He growled at the smirk. He didn't know what it meant. That subtle hint of seriousness that was covered by a layer of teasing.
He smirked as a sudden thought came to mind. He could break her. Or so he thought. Such a stupid thought, but alas he is Boomer.
"What brings you here?" He asked as he walked up to her. Her green orbs momentarily meet with his deep blue ones before she smirked and turned away.
"What brings you here?" Buttercup answered his question with another question.
"Does it really matter to you?" He raised a monotonous brow, trying to focus coldness into one small glance. Her smirk never faltered, and just stayed planted on her face.
"I suppose not." Her reply was filled with playfulness as she once again regarded him with a smirk. She swirled the alcohol in her glass before shooting it down and turning to him. An unreadable look sparkled in her electric eyes that somehow matched her defiant smirk. "Does it matter to you where I'm going? Or just where you're going?"
Boomer blinked twice at her question. She wasn't making any sense. Maybe, she's trying to trick him. "It matters either way, I guess." He didn't know how it happened. How they ended up in some apartment. He didn't know why he kissed her. He just remembered being so furious and smashing his lips into hers forcefully. But he could vaguely remember that she didn't protest at all. Not a single peep came from her. She just kept that smirk, not crying out when he threw her on the bed.
It was like she was didn't care.
And to be quite frank, he was envious. He wanted not to care about his brothers, his 'friends', even himself. But it wasn't in his nature. His nature is to be stupidly kind, caring, and generous. It was like he was destined to be the under-minded person that everyone could step on. But it ended up as him wanting more. He wanted more power. To feel strong and invincible, not like his usual soft demeanor.
When his brother threw him out and didn't let him in and when everyone thought even when he was stupid enough to use and abuse, something quietly snapped in him. So when he saw her looking so easy in a way, he had to run for the chance.
But like every other time he tried to triumph over someone, she didn't care. That sparked something in him. Something that when he woke up the next morning with her gone, he felt almost obliged to go after her. He suddenly didn't care that he received weird looks every time he went to that bar to sit and wait for her to come. He really didn't care about everyone who passed by having a fun time with their friends. Maybe because the thing he sought so long for was replaced by her. Maybe the whole time it was her, but he had to wait for that spark. And the spark was found.
But he had to keep it.
So, he had to find her again. To see that smirk that embodied power. To feel that spark again, to not care about everyone else but her. His plan for revenge may have been spoiled, but it lead to something more. He just had to have her again. So, he always came to the bar every night, hoping to see a glimpse of that smirk that hid power.
...
The bar was oddly full that night. Drunken women and men lined up at the bar, laughing and smiling. Even the bartender, who usually didn't show emotion, was grinning and giving out drinks for free. It annoyed Boomer though. All of those smiles were wearing him down. And the crowd blocked all of the enterances, so he could barely see if she came in.
But he still sat there with a bottle of whiskey, waiting for her. Taking a small sip of the drink, he impatiently glanced at the doorway. Only a few people spilled into the growing crowd, with huge grins that made him want to puke. He was growing impatient. Five weeks since he had seen her was too much. A nagging voice at the back of his head screamed for him to give up, but he paid no mind to it.
Sleeping on the streets, cold and alone, was somehow worth it. That's what he thought. Physical pain in trade for emotional relief. That's how it works out in life if you're lucky enough.
Upon hearing a loud scraping, he looked at the door. Short waves of layered black hair, wide green eyes, and a well-placed smirk. It was her. The one he's been waiting for. Her gaze never met his, but she walked to him nonetheless.
"Hey." He let only one word slip out as many tried to get out. Her gaze finally met his, still filled with the same playfulness.
"Hey." She replied, completely unfazed by his presence. She pulled out a chair a sat down down, only a couple of feet away from him. Waving a hand to the cheerful bartender, a drink was placed in front of her. She sipped the glass casually, unaware of his outward glare. He didn't like the guys that were giving her looks. He didn't like that the tomboy was wearing such tight mini-skirts. He didn't like being jealous either. "You've been waiting, haven't you?" Her voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Yeah." He regarded her casually, only to shot a glare at a man who was staring her down. Her lip curled into another sly smile.
"What you have been waiting for?" She asked, the ice clinking in her cup.
"You." Another smirk came across her face as the words slipped out of his mouth so easily. He was so vulnerable, yet he seemed not to care. That was something she'd like to see.
"Why?" He gave a shrug.
"Maybe because you seemed lonely." Her smirk fell into a frown. She was tired of people pointing out how lonely she looked and how much she deserved it.
"Professor died and I don't know what's happening to my sisters." She gave a hollowed laugh, her frown becoming tired. "But I suppose I deserve, right?" He took a sip of his whiskey before he regarded her with an empty look.
"No one deserves that." She couldn't hold back and her jaw dropped. "Not even you." She recovered and gave a smirk.
"Maybe. Maybe not."Taking a swig of her glass, she sighed. "But if no one deserves it, why are you on the streets?"
"Sibling problems." He said with a shrug. She chuckled a bit.
"Yeah, I know how you feel." She smiled. He raised a eyebrow. Not because he thought she was kidding, but because of that smile. He had never seen the tomboy smile or even seem happy unless she was fighting. And yet here she was, talking to her old enemy and grinning ear to ear showing all of her pearly white teeth. It made him want to do the same. To truly smile. It made him feel more powerful than her smirk.
"Well, best be going. Blossom gonna be screaming by the time I get home." Buttercup gave him a small wink. His mouth formed an 'O'. "See ya." She got up from her chair and grinned and walked out of the bar, leaving him to wonder. Maybe he didn't her smirk or smile to make him feel worthy of living. Maybe he just needed her. Just to keep her for himself. But she's Buttercup. She's nobody's. But his.
"Hey, kid." He looked up to see the bartender staring him right in the eyes. "Ya gonna pay for that girl's drink? It costs twenty dollars." He glanced over to where she sat. Sure enough, not a single penny was there to pay her bill.
"Shit."
Review and Boomer will pay twenty dollars to the 'Writer's Block' Foundation to find a cure for writer's block. Or just REVIEW! And do my poll!
