A.N- I said that this would be shorter than the last chapter, depending on how much I add. But it ended up being 1000 words longer.

Thank you so much for your reviews! And I tried to make this as fast as I could.

I hope you enjoy it!

Kenny draws his lips away from my ear and lights up a small, challenging smile.

"…Funny, right?"

ooo

I cup my ear Kenny just whispered into with both my hands. My whole face is burning from embarrassment, but I try and hide it with a pout. The only thing that actually hides my blushing face from Kenny are my hands around my ear, working as the only wall between me and him. But I can tell that he can see right through it. His grin shining into my face feels warm, not mocking; I don't know which one I'd rather prefer though. Then Kenny finally opens his mouth to break the unbearable silence, letting me relax just a tiny bit.

"If it wasn't for Craig we wouldn't have found you so fast, which still took a few hours, but it would have easily taken another few if Craig didn't punch Kevin in the face"

I tense up again after listening to his words, and I also feel a little guilty. My blush has gone away but I keep my hands in place, just to let myself hide from the blond for a little longer.

"So don't be so harsh on him." His soft voice suggests to me, gently, like calming a little child down. It makes the guilt inside me build up a little more, and I drop my heavy hands from my ear, breaking the wall between us.

"Now I'm not saying that I'm on his side or nothin'. I'm just saying that-" Kenny's voice suddenly lights up into his usual playful tone, as if trying to get rid of the heavy atmosphere that was surrounding us.

I look at him through the corner of my narrowed eyes. His cerulean blue orbs stare warmly right back at me. Impatience begins to tick inside me and my mouth deepens its pout from irritation as I wait for Kenny to finish his sentence.

"I'm just saying that you look much cuter laughin' than you do frownin'"

My heart jumps a beat from the unexpected words and heat begins to rise to my cheeks with embarrassment.

"What- what- the hell- as if-"

Meaningless words blubber out my mouth as I try to hide myself from Kenny's amused smile with my hands. Where the hell did that come from? That was so random and it doesn't even fall into anything he was just saying! What is he smiling at? Fucking perverted irrational inconsistent stupid blob-

My mind blanks out as cool hands cup my cheeks, making me stare into his cerulean eyes.

"That's what I'm talking about!" I can feel my face burn as Kenny drops into an irritating laughter. I aggressively flick his hands away and start punching the frustrating blond in the shoulder. As if I want to be fucking cute! I'm a fucking rude, dirty, mud-loving dude!

My face continues to burn as I try to curl down the edges of my mouth. My cheeks blush and my stomach flips with rage as I continue to punch the laughing clown. But why is my mouth betraying all my inner feelings and reacting to Kenny's words? The curl around my lips just doesn't seem to want to curl back down.

"Fuck you Kenny!" is all I say as I continue to create new bruises on him.

Then suddenly, an electrical sound playing the melody of Beethoven's 5th symphony in C minor echoes in the empty room, making the two of us stop in the middle of our little fight. We both look towards the kitchen, at the small telephone stuck to the wall, flickering its lights to the beat of the song. I still can't get used to the ring tone of that telephone. It's just plain weird.

"I'll get it"

As if it was the best excuse, Kenny quickly wiggles out from underneath me, making me slide off onto the ground with a thump. I glare at the blond who ignores my eyes, and rub my bruised butt. Kenny says the usual friendly 'hey's and 'you wanna talk to Kyle's and- huh?

"Kyle it's for you"

I'm brought back to reality with Kenny's call. He holds the phone out towards me from the kitchen, indicating me to come get it. I reactively stop rubbing my butt and walk towards the phone, hesitantly taking it from Kenny's hand. I push the speaker to my ear, repeatedly pleading inside my head 'Please don't be Cartman, please not Cartman'.

"Hello?"

"Kyle! Kyle? Are you okay?"

His high voice shoots into my ear, shaking my eardrums and thumping in my head. If I didn't take the phone off my ear in time I would have definitely gone deaf.

"Yeah Ike, I'm fine" I say cautiously, after making sure that he was done screaming.

"You're fine! Dude, you were down there for hours! How dare that fucking fatass do that to you! He's the one who caused your phobia; he should at least have the decency to not open up your infected wounds with a rusty butterknife! I mean he's the fucking one that caused it! I'm going to fucking kill him!"

I can hear frantic panting coming from the end of the phone. All that non-stop yelling would have taken away all his breath. I can just imagine the tips of his black hair pointing upwards in rage and his cheeks burning up to a bright red, making his hazel eyes glow out on his scarlet face.

"Calm down Ike, just take a breath. I'm fine, see?" I give the cameras on the ceiling a small wave, showing that I'm all in one piece.

"Only because of that asshole that I shouldn't probably call an asshole anymore because-"

"You mean Craig Tucker?" I break him off.

"Yeah Craig whatever. I shouldn't call him an asshole now that he saved you, should I?"

For a split second my heart feels like it stoped bumping and I freeze in my spot.

"…Still doesn't change the fact that he's an asshole…" I mutter defensively under my breath. I don't know why I feel so defensive, and I don't sound convincing, even to myself.

"Anyway! It was good to hear that you're okay! Tell Cartman that I'll kill him! Bye!"

By the time I notice that he was talking, he had hung up the phone and an empty beep was echoing repeatedly out the speaker. Why do my conversations with Ike on the phone end up being so one-sided? I give out a deep sigh, trying to let all my ragged feelings drain away.

I wish everyone would just shut up about Craig.

ooo

I sit on the floor patiently, my knees brought up to my chest with my back leaning against the door. How long have I been sitting here for? Three, four minutes? –Let's just say twenty. So I've been awaiting here with my heart beating really loud and fast. I bet that if he doesn't come soon, my heart is going to beat so hard that it'll jump up my throat, out my mouth and onto the floor. But at the same time, half of myself hopes that he won't come, which is impossible. He is sure to come here sooner or later, logically speaking.

Ever since we came back from the forest everyone has been on my back talking about how 'non-asshole' Craig is. I'm really getting sick of it. Kenny, Ike, Tweek, even Butters called up after that and gave me a mini lecture. The only person who hasn't said anything about it is Stan (thank god). But all those small lectures have forced me to think about it. And now, I'm wondering if I should consider the idea that Craig isn't a complete douchebag. Only a little bit, like 'give him a chance' bit.

Dinner was a nightmare. My mind was wondering off deep into thought the whole time I was cooking. It was too late by the time Tweek shrieked at me. Now I have about seven small bandaids on my hands, hiding the cuts I got while cooking. Eating was even worse. I was unconsciously staring at Craig, trying to analyse whether he was or was not, truly an asshole. Thanks to that, most of my food was stolen away by Kenny.

But then I just got fed up with it. I have to admit, I might not be so intelligent in the non-study areas, so… I just gave up. I decided that I wasn't going to think about it anymore and that I was going to ask him myself, even if I have to be open about everything, whatever 'everything' entails. And I'll try and say the 'T' word to him, I mean, maybe he deserves it, right?

So I've been sitting here, waiting since ten o'clock. My hair is still dump from the shower, dropping small droplets onto my shoulder and back, making my pyjamas stick to my skin. I let out a large sneeze just thinking about the cold. Why didn't I bring my towel with me? And why didn't that fatass provide us with some warm clothes? Just because it's summer doesn't mean that it's going to be boiling hot-

Another sneeze interrupts my thoughts, blanking out my head for a second, cooling down my hot temper.

Maybe I should just leave. What am I doing here anyway? Waiting for him to come back from the shower, I don't even know what I'm going to say to him. I don't even have an excuse to be sitting here in front of the door, blocking the entrance.

My speeding heart and warming face makes my brain come up with excuses to leave, to run away. The words in my head overcome me, pressuring me. It's not too late; I can still leave here without anyone noticing that I was here waiting for him to begin with.

I cling to the small hope with slight panic. My hands release themselves around my knees and drop to the ground, ready to push me up to my feet so that I could run out the room. But then, just as I was about to push myself up, something firm slams against my back and I instantly freeze.

"What the hell?"

The sound of a monotone voice leaks through the wooden door, making my whole body shudder. I was too late.

"…Is someone there?"

He waits for a reply, which I don't give him. My whole body is frozen, just like a deer caught in headlights. I was just about to run away, and now I'm caught here with a blank mind, lost in what to do.

But what am I supposed to do? Suddenly start acting nice to him just because people are telling me to, or because he might actually turn out to be a nice guy?

"Move asshole, I'm gonna catch a cold out here."

His bitter words sound frustrated and irritated, and it brings me straight back to reality. The edge in his voice remains the same: he is still the usual douche. But he sort of has the right to be mad I guess. He just got out of the shower, so he's probably half naked with his hair drenched with water. And I'm just sitting here, in front of his bedroom door, blocking his entrance. With my mind swimming with confused thoughts all I manage to squeeze out is-

"No."

I can feel him freeze behind the door, all tensed up with surprise and confusion, staring at the closed door like a stunned mullet. I was probably the last person he was expecting to be in this room. The thought prickles something inside me. Why should I be the last person to be in here? This is half my room as well.

"Broflovski?"

My heart suddenly bounces in my chest, hitting against my ribs. His sudden call caught me off guard, reminding me of the reason why I was here.

"…What?"

"What are you doing?"

I bite my inner lip, still not ready to give up my good-for-nothing pride.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Blocking my entrance?"

His immediate answers give me no time to take a breath. He sure has a natural instinct to push people into the corner; or maybe it just feels that way because I was already there.

"No, I was just here thinking… um… wanting to… talk to you?" the last words drown into a mumble, which I bet would be barely audible on the other side of the door.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Damn it! Curse his big long rabbit ears! The small hope in me that he might have not heard me shutters into a million shards of embarrassment. Now I have to talk to him. As I look desperately for words in my head I hear a heavy voice sigh behind the door.

"Can I first come in?" Craig says with a resigned tone of voice.

"No way!" The words burst out my mouth without my permission; by the time I clasp my mouth with my hands it was too late.

"Why not?"

Damn it. Now I have to tell him.

"…Because… I don't want you to see my face… okay?"

Now Kyle Broflovski, being honest wasn't so hard right? The air seems to have disappeared all around us and I suddenly feel like suffocating, I can't breathe.

Not hard? Fuck, that was so embarrassing! How can Tweek and Butters get on with being honest all the fucking time? I dig my boiling face into my knees again, hiding myself from the air around me. The fact that Craig doesn't make a sarcastic comment about it is even worse. Is he that taken aback? I feel like a complete bonehead!

"…Fine" The small response breaks my trail of thought. His voice is small and calm, he sounds a little troubled, but the usual edge and bitterness in his voice are somehow hidden away.

Then I suddenly feel something hit against the door, making me jump in my spot. My brain instantly thinks that he is going to crash the door open, but the strong impact doesn't come. Then I feel something slide gently against the other side of the door, slide, until something lands on the floor. Oh… I think I understand what happened. Craig has sat on the other side of the door, leaning his back against the wood, just like me.

We lean against each other with only the thin door separating us. I suddenly feel completely at ease and my body relaxes into the door. My thumping heart slows down into a calming beat and the knots in my head slowly untangle. And I ask him, without much thought, the question that's been lingering inside me for the last few days.

"…Do you like me?"

I first notice what I'm saying after the words come out. But it's been something that I wanted to clear out. Maybe it's a stupid question, but he didn't give me a straight answer last time I asked him. Honestly, I don't know what I'll do if he said yes; I can just imagine the awkward atmosphere that would come after it. But if he says no, I think I would have to punch him. Doing all that stuff to someone you don't like deserves a frying pan to the head.

I wait patiently for a reply with my face dug into my knees again. My heart is thumping like I've just run a hundred metre marathon and I can feel the blood in my face boiling up. Waiting for a reply is agonising with the question I just asked echoing in my head endlessly, stirring up my embarrassment. But the guy doesn't seem to answer. Just please hurry up and put me out of my misery!

"I hated you," he begins, making my thumping heart stop in its spot, but then he continues, "or more like your whole gang during most of elementary school. You guys would always get yourselves caught up in things which you would call 'adventures'. You even got me caught up in one once. It was bothersome to say the least, because I always liked boring things. You guys were always doing something and always seemed to be excited. Especially you, Broflovski, you were never the ambitious one, but you were always the hot-blooded one, always excited. I've always hated that."

He pauses for a second, as if going into deep thought. My blush had cooled down but my blood was boiling in a different way now. I asked him if he likes me and all I'm getting is how much he hates me. If he's not asking for a fight, I don't know what he's doing. And he continues his story, with a more wondering tone.

"I've always been popular with the girls. I don't know what they like about me, but it's not one or two times that they've asked me out"

Okay, that's it. I'm gonna punch him.

"But it's also not one or two times that they've dumped me"

…Huh?

My frustration instantly cools down, and the hot tension around us suddenly drops a few degrees. The door between us magically disappears in my imagination, and I can see his face clearly: bored and cold looking, with his eyes on the floor yet looking as though he's scanning straight through the wood.

"It's always the same thing. The girls would act all excited and say how they like me and how happy they are to be with me. But then after a week or so, they begin to get all frustrated and then they would break up with me. Saying that 'I am too cold' and that 'I didn't have any feelings'. It never bothered me, but their same words always lingered in my head. But I never gave much thought to it."

He doesn't sound sad or bothered, but just plain emotionless with slight wonder, like reading out a boring maths question. But strangely, my mind is completely blank for once. We just sit there, our backs leaning against each other through the wooden door. With him telling his personal story and me sinking in his words. And he continues, with the heavy weight lifted off from his voice.

"Then in middle school, your gang broke up, and it was you who did it. At first I didn't know why, I just thought 'finally he's cooled down and grown up', but I was wrong. You were still the same, loud, excited, short-tempered, hot-blooded Kyle Broflovski. It made me irritated and frustrated. Were you ever going to grow up, how long was it going to take you to cool own? But then I noticed. The true reason of my irritation towards you wasn't because that I hated you, but it was because I was completely jealous of you. Jealous of how you could be interested in everything, how you could get excited about the smallest things, and how you could care so much about something. …And it made me realise that what I truly hated, was my own cold, dry, uncaring self. But that thought made me feel defeated, so I couldn't admit it. And then I decided to challenge you instead.

"I began to bully to you, seeing how far you could get pushed. I wondered that if I pushed you hard enough, then maybe I could break your high pride and force you to cool down. But you never broke, even when I edged you in while there was no one around, you would always stand up for yourself. I began thinking about new ways to push you, maybe even thinking about it too much.

"… Then I found out that Cartman and his gang were also bullying you. I didn't like it, and it made me feel competitive. But then finally, you gave in. Your arms: you began to wear long sleeves. But it didn't make me feel good. I had accomplished my goal, yet it made me feel like I hated myself even more. So I stopped bullying you for a while. I was more frustrated and irritated than ever, and I began taking it out on Cartman's gang instead. I didn't know why, they just felt like they were the most annoying people alive."

I remember everything; the scenes of those days play over in my head like a video. The day when the bullying got worse and I finally gave in. But then for a while, Craig stopped. And soon after that, Cartman and his gang stopped as well. I never knew why, until now.

"…Then I began to bully you again, and to my surprise, you still stood up to me. And even more surprisingly, it made me feel completely relieved; you were still unbroken, you hadn't changed. But at the same time, the relief completely confused me. Wasn't it my goal to break you? It made no sense to me. So for once in my life, I thought about my feelings, and I'm not used to be thinking about my feelings.

"I didn't talk to you while I was thinking, and the answer just wouldn't come out. I thought and thought, but it was no use, so I just gave up. And I started bullying you again. Then suddenly, the answer came out, the answer that didn't come out no matter how hard I thought, simply popped up the minute I talked to you again. Why I felt relieved when I knew that you didn't change, even after you developed a complex for your arms because of my, and Cartman's, bullying.

"The answer was simple: it was because I didn't want to really hurt you. But then that lead to another answer, one that I wasn't looking for and probably didn't want to find out. Teasing you was fun, and I liked it. You stood up to me, facing me straight on without hiding anything. You weren't nice and boring, but I didn't hate it. And I noticed that I was thinking about you, way too much, to simply call my feelings towards you 'jealousy' or even 'like'.

"…Does that answer your question?"

His monotonous voice ends the story with a simple question, simple, but difficult to answer. While listening to most of his story my shallow but fast heartbeat has been beating continuously in my ear. The quick beating in my ear interferes my trace of thought, and what he explains to be such a simple story sounds so confusing and embarrassing to my ears. Yet he just sits there, probably with his poker face, telling his story as if he's reading it out of a textbook.

From asking him a simple question of whether or not he liked me, I had to be given this long confusing personal story. It's worse than being told 'I like you' a hundred times on end. And he hasn't even answered my question directly.

I focus my mind on thinking and complaining, just so that I can avoid saying anything. But thanks to my embarrassment, the silence around us is awkward and itchy, but strangely, it doesn't seem heavy.

Even after he had finished telling his story, Craig hasn't ordered me to open the door to let him in. I feel relieved for this. I wouldn't be able to show my face right now, which is probably glowing all red. But that reminds me of what Kenny said to me earlier. It makes me wonder. Kenny said that while I was hiding my face, so was he.

Craig told his personal story with his monotonous voice, but being completely open for once. Maybe it's his way of hiding his embarrassment. To be wearing a poker face and using a monotonous voice, acting all defiant, as if it wasn't a big deal. I was jealous about him being able to say anything without feeling embarrassed, but maybe it's just his way of hiding what he wants to hide, but at the same time, what he really wants to show.

"…I don't get those girls"

"What?"

The words just dropped out of my mouth without real thought. It was barely a whisper but somehow, Craig had heard me. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something all this time. I wasn't going to say this out loud, but might as well say it if he heard me.

"Those girls who dumped you. They said that you were the most cold, emotionless person, right? I just don't get it."

"How come?"

He sounds confused and irritated, probably because of my sudden, random statement and long explanation.

"Because you're probably one of the most hot-blooded person I know"

Instant silence comes between us. The second I finish talking Craig silences, making me feel as though I had said something bad. Did I say something bad? I didn't think it was an embarrassing statement when I said it. But the silence now makes me think of it as something that I shouldn't have said. The silence this time is not calm and relaxing like the last one. Or maybe it only feels that way because I'm the last one who spoke, making me the one causing the silence.

I look desperately in my head for something to say, but I can't think of anything at the moment. Maybe I should just move and let him in, run away from here. Then something pops up in my head. Something I was meant to say from the very beginning. But should I say it now?

"Umm- Craig?" I don't wait for an answer before I continue. "I heard from Kenny about what happened while I was inside the small cellar. And I heard that it was, er, because of you that I got out so early, and, all I wanted to say was, um" I gulp down a chunk in my throat before continuing. I only want to say it once so I'm going to have to make it clear. I close my eyes tight and brace for it.

"…Thank you"

…Tick. Tick. Tick.

Imaginary clocks tick all around me as I sit there, with all my body tensed up as if getting ready for a bomb to drop, waiting for a reply. But nothing comes.

"Craig?"

Still no reply. The tension in my body releases with confusion and I look back towards the door. Is he even there?

"Craig? You there?"

I release my knees to turn around. He still isn't replying. Bitterness begins to tickle the bridge of my nose. If he had walked away without listening to my gratitude, I'm gonna punch him.

Now, standing up with my shoulders tensed up in attack mode, I grab onto the door handle. Then with the anger and embarrassment that was building inside me, I pull the handle with all my might, ready to get that son of a bitch.

But then I freeze. The anger inside me instantly disappears, replacing my insides with cold and heavy ice instead. In front of me now, without the door dividing us apart anymore, is Craig Tucker. His hair is dripping wet, the droplets shinning off lights of glowing blue. Water sinks deep into the small towel around his shoulders, the only thing covering his upper body. Just watching him makes me feel cold, even worse, guilty. He probably got out of the shower thinking that he would come straight back to this room and grab a shirt. But because I was in here, blocking his entrance, he was forced to sit out here topless, drenched with water, and tell a long story.

"…Dude, you're gonna catch a cold" is the first thing that comes out my mouth. The words are more like a statement, forgotten to be wrapped up with a tone of remorse.

"Oh yeah? And who's fault do you think that- nch!" He pauses and rubs his nose, and I stare at him blankly as he does. …Was that a sneeze?

"Dude, cute sneeze, bless you, but you should first come in and put something on before you really catch a- ACHOO!"

Argh, his sneeze passed onto me. But then I remember that my hair is also drenched and dripping onto my pyjamas. I rub my nose roughly, and as I do, I notice Craig's dirty stare digging into my face.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"…You have a loud sneeze for a shrimp"

"Wha-" For once, his voice doesn't contain any venom, but the words that come out of him are enough to infuriate me. But I don't get the chance to get back at him for it.

Before I could finish my word, Craig barges inside the room, rubbing his arms for warmth. He walks straight past me, completely ignoring my irritation and anger. I glare daggers into his back as he crouches in front of his box, looking for a shirt. But the glaring seems to work, his twitches his back as if he felt a sudden itch, and turns back to face me.

"What?" His poker face and monotonous voice prickles my nerve. Does this asshole even care if someone's mad at him? God he's so insensitive and-

"Are you gonna sleep here?" His words break my trace of thought. When I look at him with my mind blank, not knowing what to think, my eyes naturally draw into his ocean-blue ones that stare right into mine. "Or are you going to sleep on the couch again?"

The sarcasm in his voice hits me like an ice cube. But strangely, it makes me realise how light I feel now. The knots inside me have untangled into straight threads. What those threads represent, I don't even know. But my mind has cleared up now, refreshed and full of temper.

"Are you kidding? If I sleep on that leather couch for one more night I'm gonna break my back!"

So I follow him into the room and jump onto my own bed, the one that hasn't been used since the last room-change. I hit the bed on my stomach, bounce an inch into the air, and land safely back. The mattress sinks all my body weight in, relaxing my muscles and joints that I've been using all day. Yeah, this is much better than that stupid couch, heavenly, even. If you could touch clouds, this is what it'll feel like to lay on one.

"I'm gonna sleep here…" I make myself clear by muttering into my pillow. The rustling of sheets and bedcovers coming from the bed beside me tells me that Craig has dug himself into his bed. So I do the same and wiggle myself in between the bed covers. The relaxation that overcomes me makes me leak out a deep sigh.

The lights are off, it's completely dark. But I'm not alone, and I'm not locked up somewhere small. Just reminding myself of that fact reassures me of a good night's sleep, and I slowly close my eyes. As I do, I can make out Craig's silhouette roll over in his sleep. In the darkness, I imagine that I can see Craig's face as my eyes slowly become used to the light.

My eyelids finally meet each other, and complete darkness surrounds me. But before I drown into a deep sleep, Craig's earlier words repeat in my head.

"Does that answer your question?"

Yeah, it does Craig, in the most embarrassing and circumferential way. I don't get why he wouldn't simply say it. That would've been much quicker and less embarrassing. I guess we both have different ideas towards embarrassment and how we hide it. Maybe we are the complete opposite.

While I think it's embarrassing to show all my emotions openly, hiding my embarrassment with outswearing or simply hiding my face, Craig seems to find more specific things embarrassing, and tries to hide them by doing things that are even more embarrassing.

But even though we may seem to be the complete opposite, we still have our similarities. Right?

ooo

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Craig was turning red, trying to hide his blush by holding onto you. …Funny, right?"

A.N- I hope you didn't get bored out by Craig's narration. But he tries to hide his embarrassment by being emotionless and getting straight to the point, so, don't blame him. Now I want to write a story about their middle school ages. Teehee.

I imagine every scene in my head in a manga or anime form so the scenes make sense to me, but when I make it into words everything sounds grubby and ridiculous. Please tell me if they don't make sense. My history teacher said that I had to work on my collocation or something. Damn my stupid linguisticability!

Thank you for reading!