Disclaimer: South Park and all characters in it are copyright Matt Stone and Trey Parker, not me.
A/N:
Apparently, I am not in a good (writing) mood. Well, maybe emotional mood also.
Also, my white blood cells were low last week. Lethargy coupled with a cold I can't shake coupled with the looming threat of OHNOES low white blood cells! Did not lend to a conducive writing atmosphere…
Title: The K Squared 100
Author: Zoshi the Confused
Rating: Ranging, mostly PG-PG13
Category: South Park
Genre: General/Romance
Collection may contain: Shounen-Ai/Boy Love, Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing
Theme 14: Underneath
You know he doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it at all.
Not when he calls you a good-for-nothing-piece-of-shit. Not when he complains that you can't hold down a decent job for your life. Not when he ignores you for days on end unless it's convenient not to. Not when he throws you out the door like last week's garbage.
Not when he sends you to hell the third time this week because you managed to annoy him when the TV was on.
You know that underneath that harsh, rough shell he loves you, like he did all those years ago when you first got together. There were no arguments back then, no hurting, no hiding. You don't know when it all went wrong, but you think you'd be able to remember if only you could get past the stupid block in your memories, but you can't. You don't have time. There's other things to do so you don't get him pissed again. And you don't like it when he's pissed, you like it better when he's calm. At least then, even if he does notice you, he doesn't wrinkle his nose as if he'd just stepped in dog shit, or shove you out of the way when all you want to do is ask him what he feels like for dinner.
You know he loves you. You believe it, because after the days done, and if he hasn't gone raging into the night about something random that you didn't even notice, you're together. The two of you, close enough, and you savor those moments, especially now, when they are so few. You want them because in the night, in the dark, his callousness sheds away, and the love is renewed, and the bonds that have come so close to breaking are rebuilt.
You know that underneath it all he loves you. You know it because you say it to yourself, silently, each time his eyes spark fire again. Over and over you run it through your mind, and it helps to dull the moment, and the pain, and the anguish, and all those other feelings that come rushing at you at those times. Its your silent litany, your prayer for salvation.
He loves you, he loves you, and that's why you put up with this. That's why you let those things happen, things that shouldn't be happening. That's why you put up with his accusations and rants and complaints without comment.
He loves you. You say it until you believe it. You say it until you know it. You say it until it chases away that other thing you know, that other thing that you wish you didn't know, because it'd be so much easier to know he loves you without that thing constantly popping up.
You know he doesn't mean it.
You know that, underneath that harsh façade, he loves you.
And you know that underneath the cool, calm, façade you wear, you're still the same scared and lonely teenaged boy you were all those years ago, desperate to love someone, desperate to be loved back; a lonely, desperate boy so enamored in his idol that he is blind to all and any faults it might possess.
You know that underneath it all he loves you.
And that's all that matters.