A.N- Hello! Not too long a wait this time, huh? Well one, exams finished (thank you guest for wishing me luck!) and two… I finally came up with an ENDING! A plan! Oh my God! I never write stories without having and ending, so that was one reason why I wasn't motivated so much to write this… But I have an ending now! And I am so excited because it's so…! I hope to get this done now.
Anyway, sorry for that little racket.
Thank you for reading and reviewing!
Hope you enjoy~
9
Even after a hard day's work, Kyle managed to trot eagerly through the prison's hallways, making his way to his cell. All he wanted to do was to catch Kenny. He had made a promise yesterday to take Kyle to the library, and Kyle was going to make sure Kenny kept it. It was the one thing that occupied his mind the whole day, making his heart rise and fall with the excitement of seeing the library, and the doubt that Kenny won't actually keep his promise. But Kenny will keep his promise this time. Kyle will make him.
Kyle pushed through his heavy cell door and tumbled into his cell with a puff. He tried to straighten himself out as he faced Kenny's bed, but his chest was rising high and low from panting. The blond looked up to him from his bed with a grin.
'You took your time,' he teased at Kyle's flustered state.
'I came as fast as I could!' Kyle glared, placing a hand on his aching chest. 'You wouldn't know, because you don't work.'
'Is that a way to talk to someone who's going to do you a favour?'
'You promised to do it.'
'Still a favour. And I'm putting it on your debt list.' Kenny got to his feet before Kyle could attempt at a final word. He opened the door a little wider and drew his hand out in the manner of a butler. 'Shall we?' he mocked.
Kyle wasn't completely satisfied with how that small conversation ended but followed Kenny's hand out the door nonetheless. After all, he was relieved and grateful that Kenny was willing to take him to the library. He didn't seem to like the library all too much, as he previously explained to Kyle.
'So— is there anything you should warn me about?' Kyle asked hesitantly as he walked beside Kenny through the halls. Kenny looked at him with a quirked brow.
'What do you mean?'
'I mean, last time you told me about the library, you talked about two people who owned it. Two inmates. Dangerous inmates who everyone was scared of and avoided the library for.'
'Your memory is something I shall never doubt, Kyle,' Kenny smirked. 'And?'
'Well, if they're so dangerous, what should I be worried about most? Is there anything I should and shouldn't do?'
Kenny hummed in consideration. 'Just, don't touch anything and don't say anything until I've introduced you to them.'
'What's the worst that could happen?' Kyle asked, trying not to sound so anxious. He wanted to know what he was risking in order to visit the library and hopefully borrow a book, but he didn't want Kenny to think that he was getting second thoughts.
'Anything, I guess… Abusive language, a few punches, broken limbs, eye rape… Depends on if they like you or not.'
'…What kind of people do they like?' Kyle asked, grasping his shirt.
'I don't know.'
'What kind of people do they not like?'
'Everyone, probably.'
Kyle tensed his lips and subtly closed his distance with the blond.
They didn't walk through many hallways Kyle didn't know. Kyle thought that maybe the library would be on the other side of prison, since he never found it wondering around the West Wing, and some of the North Wing, where most of the service rooms were.
'Where is the library?' Kyle asked, just to fill the silence. A silence shared with Kenny was never really an awkward one, but now he wanted to distract himself from the doubt of going to the ill-rumoured library.
'It's in the North Wing,' Kenny answered. 'It's probably because of the library that there aren't too many cells there. I don't even know if they have a leader.'
'Leader?'
'Yeah, leader. Didn't I tell you? Or maybe your memory isn't so perfect after all. Anyway,' Kenny chuckled as Kyle gave him an unpleasant look. 'Each Wing has its own leader. "Leader" I think is the right word, or maybe "Ruler", since we don't really "lead" anyone.'
'"We"?' Kyle asked, amused, but not surprised.
'Yeah, I'm one. Token's one too.'
'Token's the Western King, right?' Kyle said, remembering how Kenny introduced them last night. But Kenny looked at him with a frown.
'What? No! He's the Eastern King.'
'You're the one who introduced him as the Western King…' Kyle mumbled.
'And he didn't correct me? Fucking bitch.'
'What's so wrong with that?'
'Because I rule the West Wing and he wants me to back down. I probably boosted his ego when I called him the Western King.'
'Why does he want you to back down? I haven't seen you do anything, ruler-like, that is. What could he get out of ruling the West Wing?'
'I don't think he necessarily wants the West Wing. I mean, he hasn't gone for the South Wing and the West Wing ain't much different. I think it's more personal. I think he resents the fact that I might be stronger than him.' Kenny grinned, showing his teeth.
'So… Are you two friends or enemies?' Kyle asked, confused since yesterday about their relationship. Kenny shrugged.
'Frenemies, more like.'
Kyle guessed what the word meant and noted it down in his mental "slang dictionary".
It took them about fifteen minutes to get to the library, Kyle timed. But when they finally stopped at their destination, he was confused. The door they stopped in front of was large: a wooden double-door, old and dusty, but certainly standing out in the environment of metal and concrete of the prison.
'Well, we're here,' Kenny said, looking at Kyle with a testing smile.
'Is this really it?' Kyle said softly, his anticipation rising for the library inside the doors.
'A grand opening don't you think? Well? Are you gonna open it?'
Kyle gulped, and knocked on the wood instinctively before opening the door.
It was dark, very dark. In the distance, he could see specks of light, like small stars dangling in mid-air, but they were too dim to give Kyle any clue of what the library looked like. He thinned his eyes, trying to force them to adapt to the dark quickly, but then a hand on his shoulder distracted him. It was Kenny's hand no doubt, and he could somehow tell that it indicated him to look up. He did, not understanding its use since all he could see was black. But then a sudden glow burst far above him, letting soft light flow to the ground and spread like waves around the room. The soft light that gave Kyle the hint of the whole library, and it made him stand there in awe.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The light that had suddenly turned on must have been at least three stories above him, small from where he was, but obviously big, like a chandelier. The ceiling it dangled from was painted in the image of the sky: a heavenly blue daylight from one side, and a moonlit night on the other. There was a spiral staircases on the other side of the room leading up to the three levels above. Kyle could see now that the floating lights were actually dangling from each level, and the lamps in the middle were placed on the long, dusty tables placed in the centre of the ground floor. It seemed like a different world. Everything was either wood or white with streaks of gold, not a sign of metal or concrete in sight. It was beautiful, and that was without mentioning the countless amount of books. The wooden bookcases were full, covering every wall to the ceiling, even if they were impossible to reach without a ladder. The library had an atmosphere of a great church, a sanctuary for books and learning. But it was empty, and completely dark until a second ago.
'I thought I heard someone come in,' a voice called from high above, the articulate English accent echoing through the empty hall. Kyle looked up, but could barely see a hint of a face leaning out on a balcony in the dim light. But then the light high above glimmered, distracting Kyle with a jolt as a saw a shadow leaning off the balcony on the top floor. He gasped as the shadow jumped off. The light glimmered again, swaying around in the air as the figure came flying down. Kyle's mind froze at the possibility of someone falling to his death at his feet, but the figure never dropped to the ground. He was swinging in the air, hanging by, a rope? A rope tied to the chandelier above? Kyle blinked back to consciousness as the figure swayed into the wall above, kicked it with his foot as a cushion, and swiftly slipped down the rope and landed on the ground with firm feet. Kyle blinked in astonishment as he stared at the figure that just landed in front of them like a trapeze performance. It was a normal boy, well, a boy in a normal inmate uniform at least.
'Merde,' he muttered, taking something out of his mouth and dropping it onto the ground before squishing it with his foot.
'Stop showing off!' The clear voice called from high above again and the boy looked up.
'It's fucking exercise you bitch!' The boy yelled back with a strange accent. He quickly drew his eyes to Kyle and Kenny, and Kyle felt his heart jump. He knew that this glaring boy must be one of the dangerous librarians. His eyes moved down from Kenny to Kyle, tying their gazes together. Kyle secretly wished for Kenny's hand to be on his shoulder again, but before he could say anything, the boy strode up to him with quick strides. He came up almost uncomfortably close for Kyle's liking, their shoes lightly touching, and stared straight into Kyle's face without a blink of hesitation. He could feel Kenny tense beside him, while he tried not to shake under the boy's gaze. But then the boy opened his mouth to speak.
'Why are you crying?'
Kyle widened his eyes in shock.
'I'm sorry?'
'I said, why are you crying?' The boy placed his palm on Kyle's cheek and rubbed their skins together before drawing his hand out to show the glistening traces of water on his hand. 'See?'
'Oh,' Kyle said, quickly wiping his cheeks with a blush tinting his face. He certainly didn't know he was crying. 'It must have been— this place…' The boy cocked his head to the side, waiting for Kyle to continue, and he did, after a soft chuckle. 'It's just— so beautiful. I guess it moved me to tears…'
The boy's eyes opened wide with Kyle's words. He drew in even closer, cupping Kyle's chin with his hand and kissed both his cheeks, before ending finally on his lips. Kyle froze as their lips lingered together, until Kenny finally drew them apart with a quick pull of Kyle's shoulder.
'What the fuck—' Kenny began, but the boy didn't even look at him, instead continued to stare at Kyle.
'I'm Christophe,' he said nonchalantly as Kyle tried to regain his mind to a whole piece.
'Um… Kyle,' he answered back, now blushing uncontrollably. The boy pulled his stiff lips into a smile and his eyes showed young wrinkles beside his eyes. It was a very warm smile that made Kyle forget the heat on his lips the boy caused.
'I've never met a person who would say such a beautiful thing,' Christophe said, drawing in towards Kyle again before Kenny stopped him with a palm to his chest.
'I think one kiss is enough, don't you think?' Kenny's smile twitched as he said so.
'What? Are you jealous?' Christophe asked so plainly that Kenny forgot to reply, but the boy wasn't interested enough to follow through with his question. 'What are you here for?' he asked instead.
'This little guy was pestering me to take him to the library, even after my attempt to explain to him that it was run by two freaks.'
'You like books that much?' Christophe asked Kyle without batting an eye to Kenny's insult.
'Well… yes. Of course.'
Christophe nodded with a small warm smile until a voice called from behind.
'Why, isn't it the Western Prince!' a neat-looking boy said, walking towards them. He was the boy who was calling from above, Kyle thought, which meant that he must be the other librarian. 'Come to borrow another porn mag, have you Kenneth? And who's this? Your Princess?'
'Kyle,' the redhead corrected annoyingly at the use of the nickname so many people seemed to know now.
'Gregory, at your service,' the blond replied, placing his hand on his chest. 'It's an honour to meet you, Kyle Broflovski.'
Kyle squinted in confusion, and Kenny said from beside him: 'You have a file of him don't you?'
'Of course,' Gregory said. 'I have a file of everyone who is interesting enough to have a rumour about. You know that. Anyway,' he turned back to Kyle, 'you're here for a book, I believe.'
'Well, that's the prime reason,' Kyle answered, looking from Gregory to Christophe and back again. 'May I?'
'Pick anyt'ing you wish,' Christophe said. Kyle smiled and looked up, slowly breaking away from the group as he floated through the library, twirling around to try and observe every part of the hall at once. His heart soared and he couldn't contain himself: he kicked his feet and ran towards the spiral staircase at the end of the hall.
'How long do you think it will take him to choose?' Gregory chuckled, watching as Kyle bobbed up and down and ran his fingers through the backs of as many books as he could.
'I don't know,' Kenny murmured with a sincere smile, not aware that he was making such a warm expression. He made a tunnel with his hands in front of his mouth and called to Kyle: 'Hey! You can come back again, so don't feel like you have to borrow everything— or even look at everything now! He can come back, right?' he asked, turning to the librarians.
'He could stay if he wants,' Christophe shrugged, and Gregory chuckled again.
In the end, Kyle came back with two books: the Russian Revolution, and History Through Maps.
'Interested in history?' Gregory asked as he took the books out of Kyle's hand.
'Yes. But we didn't have many old books in my house. Not even many books on history before the 21st Century. I'm amazed. There must be books here that are hundreds of years old.'
'So be careful with them, although I trust you,' Gregory smiled, taking the library cards out of the back covers and handing the books back to Kyle.
'Thanks,' Kyle returned the smile with a flustered blush. Gregory nodded.
'You get the books for two weeks. Enjoy.'
.
'Well they fucking liked you obviously,' Kenny muttered as they made their way back from the library.
'You think so?'
'I don't remember Christophe giving me any kisses when we first met.'
'Would you have liked him to?' Kyle asked with a cocked brow.
'No. Fuck no, it's just—' he looked at Kyle and sighed. 'Fuck it, it's nothing.'
Kyle was confused, but he let Kenny be, still excited from visiting the library. He held the books tight to his chest and couldn't wipe the grin off of his face. Kenny relaxed and watched Kyle with an amused smirk.
'That happy about a fucking library, huh?'
'It was amazing,' Kyle sighed, finally letting his arms fall from his chest. 'I can't believe that there's such a thing in this place. I've never seen anything like it… I mean, I don't even understand. Why would a prison have such an amazing library?'
'Well, they used all the money in the wrong place, if you ask me.'
'Maybe. Especially if it's hidden away and forgotten, covered in dust and left in the dark.'
Kenny looked at his concerned expression with a light frown, but quickly lit up and pulled at Kyle's arm.
'Hey, I'll show you something cool.'
They skipped through the hallway, Kyle letting Kenny guide him by the arm. Kenny's hand was slightly uncomfortable around his bone so Kyle wriggled it free, letting Kenny's hand slip down to his own. Kenny looked down at the sudden connection of their hands with tensed brows.
'This is better,' Kyle said simply, and Kenny shook his head, entwining their fingers together.
Kyle's anticipation began to grow as he followed Kenny with swift feet, but where he took him, was nowhere but the courtyard. It was dark now, the glowing windows of the hallways encircling them the only source of light. And no one was there, probably with something better to do than to lounge around in the dark courtyard. Confused at what he was meant to see, Kyle looked up, and froze. The encircling walls around the courtyard were like a short tunnel with glowing windows leading up to the sky. At the top, the short exit of the tunnel, showed a round night sky, dark and clear, with countless stars trapped in it.
'It's beautiful, Ken…' Kyle murmured. Kenny looked at him with a confused expression, but quickly broke into a light chuckle.
'Glad you like it, Ky,' he said. 'But that's not what I came here to show you. Look,' he raised their connected hands to the North wall. Instead of rectangle windows like all the other hallways, that long strip from the first floor to the top had arched windows. But unlike the hallway windows, they were dark, not lit. Kyle noticed their strange shapes before when he was in the courtyard, but never thought too much of them until now. But now that he was paying attention, he quickly figured it out.
'Are those—'
'Yup,' Kenny answered. 'Those are the windows of the library. They're cloaked with a heavy curtain from the inside, but imagine if you opened them huh? You'd probably bowl your eyes out by how much brighter it would make the magnificent library, although it would probably show how much dust the place is covered in.'
Kyle's chest was aching with emotion. He never thought he would see such beautiful things in prison, and in fact, they seemed more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in his life. He didn't realise that what he was feeling was hope, as he hadn't felt such an emotion in so long. But he was happy, the happiest he had been in a long time, and he was deeply grateful for Kenny to have shown him such beautiful things.
'Thanks Kenny,' he said, leaning his temple against Kenny's shoulder. 'Thank you for showing me the library. Thank you for this.'
Kenny's smile dropped as he realised their sudden intimacy and swiftly let go of Kyle's hand as if the connection burnt.
'What's wrong?' Kyle asked, frowning slightly.
'Nothing it's just, the hands…'
'What's wrong with holding hands?'
'Nothing, it's just— weird, you know?'
Kyle shook his head with an unsure smile. 'No. I don't know.'
'Well, it's only— two people who like each other do that.'
'I don't hate you.'
The statement made Kenny's fluster disappear.
'What?'
'I don't hate you, so I don't see what's so bad with holding hands. Not unless, you hate me.'
Kenny opened his mouth, wanting to object Kyle's whole thought-process, but let it go.
'No, I don't hate you Kyle,' he laughed. 'But you could just say that you "like" me, you know? Instead of taking a long turn around.'
Kyle contemplated it with pointed lips.
'I don't "dislike" you,' he said, with a testing grin. Kenny shook his head, but he was grinning as well. Kyle reached out for Kenny's hand once again, but the blond pulled his hand away before he could reach it.
'But let's keep our hands to ourselves, okay?'
'Why?' Kyle frowned.
'Because of reasons that would probably make you scream and run away.' Now Kyle really looked confused, but Kenny wasn't going to clear it up for him. 'Let's go. I think we're late for dinner.'
That didn't mean that he was going to eat with Kyle though. Kyle sat in his usual seat between Craig and Tweek, and Kenny went to wherever he always went. Kyle never usually thought about Kenny at dinner. He never usually thought about Kenny, period, unless he did.
Kyle looked towards Craig, who was eating in silence, and then to Tweek, who was eating very slowly with a twitch every now and then. He closed his hand, letting his fingers feel the palm, before looking back at Tweek. No, he told himself, the blond will only freak out. So he reached out for Craig's hand resting on the table. Craig paused, looked at Kyle's hand holding his, and then looked at Kyle.
'What?' He asked.
'Do you feel anything?' Kyle asked, entwining his fingers around Craig's.
'You're holding my hand,' Craig stated nonchalantly.
'Does it feel weird?'
'No,' Craig went on eating with his other hand. 'You're hand's sweaty though.'
Kyle flipped his hand off Craig's and inspected it.
'Maybe that's why…'
'Maybe what's why?'
'Kenny said he didn't want to hold hands. Because it felt "weird". Maybe it was because my hand was sweaty,' Kyle shrugged and went back to his eating, while Craig watched Kyle as if he was a moron. Craig didn't really care about holding hands with Kyle. Only people who had odd feelings were sensitive to that kind of stuff, and Craig certainly didn't have any odd feelings for the redhead.
'Your hands aren't that sweaty,' Craig said, not to comfort Kyle, but to state a fact. 'He just probably wasn't comfortable with the intimacy.'
'What do you mean?'
'Fuck, I'm not going to spell everything out for you. Think yourself. It's not like I know what he's thinking anyway. You know him better.'
'Well, the thing is, I don't think I'm very good at reading people's feelings,' Kyle said, sighing as he looked at his hand. 'Why don't you feel uncomfortable?'
'Because you're like the—' Craig combed his fingers through his hair, feeling slightly embarrassed. 'You're like, the closest person I have, apart from my sister. Not that that means anything. It's just that it makes you invading my private space not such a big deal.'
Kyle fell silent. He had been wondering about Kenny, but now he was deeply moved by Craig's words, no matter how nonchalantly Craig put them. But Kyle didn't say anything. He smiled and looked down, letting the words sink in as he finished his dinner.
.
'I found the library, by the way,' Kyle told Craig as they walked through the hallway, killing some time before lights-out.
'Good for you, not that I care.'
'Why not? It was amazing! The single most magnificent thing I've ever seen! The architecture was beautiful, like it was from hundreds and hundreds of years ago. And the books! So many books…'
'Great. Except for, hardly anyone can read here. Including me.'
Kyle's heart dropped at this. He had forgotten how privileged being able to read was amongst the excitement of finding the library. No wonder it was covered in dust, forgotten and hidden by everyone. If the illiterate inmates had any feelings towards the books that they couldn't read, it would be resentment. What a sad thought. Reading, to Kyle, was education, entertainment and the nourishing of the soul. It was an opportunity to grasp the past, present and future. And then it suddenly came to him, and he let out a bright smile.
'I could teach you how to read!' Kyle announced, grasping Craig's hand. The brunet looked at him as if he didn't understand what he said. 'I could teach you!' Kyle repeated.
'I don't think so…' Craig murmured, scratching his head.
'Why not?'
'I don't think I could ever learn to… you know, read.'
'Of course you can! No one is born with the ability to read, you know. Everyone learns it. And you will be able to too!' Craig opened his mouth with averted eyes to protest again, but Kyle rested his hand on Craig's cheek, keeping their eyes together. 'Trust me. It won't be easy but… you will be able to.'
For the first time ever, a hint of a blush coloured Craig's cheeks. He took Kyle's hand off his cheek and patted it lightly.
'I could try, I guess…' He wouldn't get his hopes up too high, but… just to comfort Kyle, he added, 'Then when I get out, I could teach my sister.'
'Yes!' Kyle exclaimed, shaking their hands with excitement. And then he sighed softly and relaxed. 'The more people are able to read, and the more we do, maybe that will make the world a slightly better place. Let us know more. And give us hope for a future…'
Craig was just doing this to please Kyle, and still didn't let himself to believe that one day he may actually become able to read. But he thought Kyle was right, especially because he couldn't read. He did believe that reading led to a future, but he had never been able to, and most people he knew had never been able to either, and none of them ever believed themselves to have a future. Craig never believed he had a future. But, maybe he could give it a try. Just a try.
.
Cartman breathed out a thin streak of smoke and grinned at himself. An old-fashioned cigarette wasn't bad for a change… It made him feel more beautifully arrogant. But then he scowled at the stick lightly glowing beside his fingertips.
'I haven't touched him in over two weeks,' he muttered to himself. 'Haven't even seen him look my way.'
'Someone's lonely,' the boy chuckled and Cartman glared down at him, sitting on his bed with crossed legs. Cartman could push the blond down and fuck him right now, just to wipe that smirk off his face, but the bitch would like that. Also, Cartman found him repulsing: cunning and useful, and a willing whore when Cartman wanted it, but repulsing nonetheless. The blond smiled and rested his chin on his palm. 'If you're gonna look at me that way, why don't you just go and fuck him? Force is always fun.'
'But not as entertaining as it could be…' Cartman grinned again, remembering what he wanted. 'What would you say his weakness is?'
'Apart from the fact that he's piss-weak?' The blond frowned for a second, as a part of his mind wondered whether the boy in question was really as weak as he seemed. But he resented the idea and kicked it out of his head, and hummed. 'Kyle Broflovski,' he tapped his fingers against his cheek with each syllable of the name. 'Well, he has a soft spot for people he cares about, that's for sure. He would do anything for a "friend". I know. I tried it out.'
'What do you mean?' Cartman asked.
'Well, I got close to him when he first came, pretending to be friends with that Princess. Then I got Trent's gang to attack him in the night, but the way it happened was great. See, I made Trent look like he was attacking me, and then I got one of my bitches to go get the Princess and say that I was in trouble. He came running to my rescue, and I told Trent to make a deal with him: if he took my place and got bashed, then he would let me free. He took the deal of course, sacrificing himself for a person who plotted an attack on him.'
'So, did they get him?' Cartman asked coldly. The blond looked at him, his smile now dropped.
'No,' he answered. 'I got the fuck out of there so I didn't stay to watch, but apparently Kenny went and saved him.'
'The Prince?' Cartman froze with a slight chill in his chest. The blond nodded.
'Who would have thought, right? The Prince falling for the Princess…' He sighed. 'Not that I know how he found out… Although, I did bump into this kid as I left the cinema while Kyle was being attacked. He was…' the blond chuckled, the memory of the boy's face coming to his mind. 'He's that ink-head the Princess hangs out with so much now. Maybe he called for Kenny and ruined my plan. What was his name?'
'Tucker.' The blond grinned as Cartman grit at the name. 'I locked that fucker up with Kyle Brof-whatever in isolation for a whole week, before I gave his back a good lashing. Not good enough though, in my opinion.'
'Well. If there's a bond worth exploiting, it better be that one. Much more fun than the one I faked with the Princess at least, although watching him sacrifice himself for me was hilarious.'
Cartman dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his foot, a thin grin still strong on his lips.
'I appreciate your advise, Butters.'
The blond chuckled happily.
'Anytime for you, sir.'
Cartman smirked, and left the blond's cell.
For a second when he heard that the infamous Prince had taken a liking to his prey, he felt cold sweat ooze on his body. But then that shiver quickly turned into that of excitement. It made him want Kyle even more: the risk made him drool. He would get what he wanted, he would take it from the Prince and it won't be by force. He had a plan now. A plan that would make the pretty little redhead crawl willingly into his palms.
Hell, maybe his job wasn't so bad after all.
.
Kyle was making his way from the library when he bumped into Butters. He had finished both of his books in less than a week, and although Kenny didn't know he was going to the library alone, he didn't think that the two librarians were so threatening, and chose to go by himself. He wanted to take Craig too, but was still unsure about the dangers of the librarians so didn't choose to risk it. But even by himself, the librarians didn't seem so bad, although the French boy, Christophe, still liked kissing him very close to the lips. It was probably a form of greeting to him though, so Kyle didn't object it. Maybe this was what it felt like for Kenny when Kyle held hands with him. It wasn't a big deal, but maybe he shouldn't do it any more. Gregory greeted from one of the balconies again, but didn't bother to come down, and Kyle liked that. Kyle chose another two books in the end: one on the 20th Century history again, and the other a novel for entertainment.
'H-Hey,' Butters said as Kyle returned to the West Wing. Kyle gave him a wide smile.
'Hi Butters.' The blond smiled back, but then his eyes caught the books in Kyle's hands.
'Where did you get those?'
'Oh, these?' Kyle looked at his books, not noticing the blond's shocked expression. 'I got them from the library.'
'Safely?'
Kyle laughed.
'Of course! What do you think would happen in the library? Although the librarians seem to have a bad reputation, they aren't really dangerous. I don't think so, anyway.' Kyle's words made Butters' smile disappear, but flustered at their rare encounter, Kyle didn't take much notice. Instead, he asked: 'Can you read?'
'What?' Butters blinked, confused at the sudden question. Was this redhead mocking him? 'Ah, no…' he answered.
'Then you should come!' Kyle exclaimed, hovering his hand near Butters' shoulder. 'I was going to teach Craig— a boy I know, how to read. You should come too!'
The sudden suggestion knocked Butters off his mind. Read? Teach? Him?
'Um, I dunno…' Butters said, acting nervous and unsure of himself.
'Well, I don't say you have to right now. Just, give it a thought, okay?' Kyle gave him one last encouraging smile before walking on, leaving Butters standing there, staring with a dumb-founded face. But as Kyle's invitation began to set in, so did the annoyance and his disgust for the redhead. How was such an ignorant, carefree Princess like that living here with a smile on his fucking face, trying to spread his goody-fucking-rainbow-kisses all around? He shouldn't have lasted a month, Hell, he shouldn't have lasted one single week!
Butters grinned as he remembered Cartman's plans for him. Well, even if his miserable life lingered on for a bit longer, at least that smile wouldn't be. Cartman will follow through with his plan soon, and Butters couldn't wait. Soon that eyesore would be less noticeable. He'll see.
.
It was coming to the end of the week again. Craig's back was healed enough that he could bend and twist and the wounds wouldn't open up. He didn't feel any more pain either, which was good. The nurse said he'd be able to go back to normal labour now if he kept it easy, which surprisingly, Craig didn't mind much. He certainly didn't mind the day-off the outdoor labourers got anyway, which was today. Tomorrow, along with everyone else, he'd be assigned a new role, and he wouldn't be getting any special exception. That was good too. He didn't like being labelled "fragile".
'Hey Craig!' A voice called from behind. Craig stopped scrubbing the large pot to look back, and found a short blond standing behind him. For a second he wondered how the blond knew his name, but strangely, he seemed familiar.
'What?'
The blond chuckled awkwardly.
'I was told to give you a different job for today,' he said. 'If you clean the bathroom of the Southern end of the West Wing, ground floor, you can be off for the rest of the day. Just to ease your back,' he smiled, and Craig relaxed. So this was just about the special exception again, huh? He looked down at the pot he was washing, and then to the mountain of pots and pans and countless others he still had to clean waiting for him beside the sink. Well, he wouldn't mind maybe using his "special exception" one last time…
'Sure,' he said, and the nervous blond chuckled again.
'I left the bucket and mop at the door. Should I show you which bathroom?'
'I guess you better…' Craig mumbled. Cleaning the bathroom wasn't necessarily his favourite chore.
He grabbed the bucket and the mop and followed the blond as he led the way with a friendly grin. There was still something about the boy that Craig couldn't shrug off, and it was something he didn't seem to like so much. He didn't like many people; in fact all he ever had were negative impressions of people. It was probably a form of self-protection, but Craig didn't care to think too deeply into it. It was probably mainly because he was an asshole. But this blond… Craig shook his head. Who cared who the blond was? So what if he had bumped into him before… Wait, bumped into?
Craig looked up and the blond noticed his glance and smiled. The kind expression slightly relaxed Craig's shoulders. No, this couldn't be the boy Craig bumped into while Kyle was being attacked by Trent's gang. What was his name… Butters? That kid had a sardonic look in his eye, and he was a dick too: he bumped into Craig and called him a bitch! But this blond was the opposite: awkward, nervous and polite. Craig was just thinking too much.
'Hey.' Craig looked up, and the blond had turned around, pointing through the empty hallway. 'It's just that one over there, at the end of the hall.' Craig saw which one, and nodded.
'Thanks,' he said. The blond gave him one last smile before trotting away.
Craig wasn't sure of where he was exactly; he had been blindly following the blond with his mind preoccupied by useless thoughts. But it wasn't a big deal. He could tell by the border wall that he was at the southern end of the West Wing. He flung the mop over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom.
The lights were off. He flicked them on, anticipating a great mess to be waiting for him, but to his pleasant surprise, nothing. It was just a normal bathroom, if not cleaner than many others. But that was understandable, considering not many people seemed to be hanging around so far down the West Wing. Well, he should just be glad he got such an easy job and get it over with.
He placed the bucket under a tap and turned the water on, waiting for it to be filled. The sound of running water hitting the metal of the bucket filled the eerily quiet bathroom. Craig sighed, trying to cover up the uncomfortable noise of the running water with his breath. The absolute silence made it echo way too much. Bored, Craig looked up, but before he could see his reflection in the mirror, the lights turned off.
'What the—'
He turned. It wasn't completely dark: the light of the hallway lit the bathroom light enough to let Craig see from one end to the other. But before he could take a single step towards the lights, a sharp pain shot through his scalp as something grabbed onto his hair.
'Hey, little raven,' a voice said beside his ear. Before Craig could respond, the hand around his hair pulled him back, making him meet the eyes of his attacker.
'You!' Craig grit, his eyes wide at the familiar face.
'How cliché, I know just how to answer that: "Yes. Me,"?'
'You fat asshole—' a sharp hiss cut off his words from another tug of his hair.
'Cartman,' the fat guard corrected. 'Or "sir", to you.'
Craig ignored him, holding his aching sculp.
'What the fuck did I do this time, "sir"?'
'Hmm, let's see…' Cartman looked around the dim room mockingly, as if he was looking for something to accuse Craig with. 'Oh yes,' he said. 'You left the tap on.'
Cartman swang Craig by his hair and shoved him into the tiled wall. The pain made Craig choke on the air in his throat, but the fingers finally loosened away from his hair. He opened his eyes in relief, only to find a cold baton placed under his chin. What the fuck did he do this time? Craig wondered again, feeling a cold chill in his chest as he looked down at the baton. Was lashing his back not enough? Did this fuck get off from hurting him or something?
The baton nudged into his flesh, making Craig meet the fat guard's eyes. Craig paused, before slowly falling into a bitter smirk. Oh, Craig got it. Just by looking into those cold eyes, Craig could tell what the fucker was after, and he hated it.
'He won't come, you know?'
'What?' Cartman frowned at Craig's sudden statement.
'I came here without telling anyone. He won't come here, caringly and lovingly like the Princess that he is. He won't come here to help me, and to interfere with you.'
Now it was Cartman's turn to smirk.
'What are you talking about?' He said. 'I'm just here to punish you for leaving the tap on.' He twirled his fingers back into Craig's hair and pulled, angling Craig's head so that he was looking up at him. The defiance in his dark blue eyes and his refusal to show any fear tickled his nerve, and Cartman came up with another way to enjoy this moment. He leaned down to press his lips against Craig's ear and whispered darkly: 'I'll give you a choice,' he said.
'What?' Craig hissed, disgusted at the intimacy, and his voice made the fat guard chuckle.
'You can choose your punishment to be either violence,' Cartman pressed the baton into his jaw again, 'or,' the hand loosened out of Craig's hair, but he didn't feel much relief as the hand began to crawl up under his shirt, 'violation,' Cartman finished. Craig felt his stomach cringe as Cartman's hand licked his skin. His eyes developed an instant hatred, burning at the guard.
'I'd rather be crushed to a pulp by you than to have to even look at your shrivelled-up dick.'
Cartman's eyes simmered at the insult, but his smile only widened further.
'Suit yourself.'
The baton slammed into Craig's shoulder and he fell into the other wall, hitting his back. For a second he thought he had gone blind from pain, but it was just the dark bathroom twirling around him. He could barely push himself out of the corner before Cartman grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward.
'You screwed that opportunity up, didn't you, raven?'
The baton bashed into his cheek this time, and Craig fell to the floor. It was cool, and wet. The water from the running tap was slowly spreading around the floor, seeping into his clothes. Thick boots splashed the water and Craig heard the squeak of the tap being closed. He looked up, and Cartman was grinning down at him.
Fuck. The word echoed in his head like the last drops of water leaking out of the tap. There was a name resting on his tongue, aching to get out, but Craig didn't let it. It was what the fat fuck wanted, and he wouldn't make it a reality.
Fuck friends. Fuck friendship. The shit you can get yourself into for having them.
But it was too late now. Too late for Craig. He was already too deep into the relationship to get himself out, and now look at the shit he had gotten into.
Fuck you, Kyle. Craig smiled weakly through bloody teeth. Fuck you.
A.N- Thanks for reading!
I keep on asking this, but would you rather have shorter chapters and more of them, or long chapters and less of them? I have a plan now, so I don't think it will affect the length of the story in any way. But what is a good length for you?
Sorry. I'm asking because I wanted to cut this chapter where Kyle encounters Butters, but that would only make it 5000 or so. And I'm happy where it ended, anyway, happy with cliff-hangers. Cliff! Why does it seem as if! You really are a cliff!
R.I.P Rik Mayall.
Okay, I shut up now.
Please review?
