I know, long time since I updated, things have been a little crazy, enjoy and please R&R!
School felt so stupid now, what had seemed so important to Buttercup a week ago now felt childish. That's not what the real world is, and it's not like I'm going anywhere anyway Buttercup thought bitterly I'll always have to be here, with my sisters, fighting crime. It's not like I'll ever be able to grow up and have real life.
Her chest ached as if there was a sob creeping up her throat, but she wouldn't let it escape, so it was stuck. Buttercup was supposed to be at school, she had promised she'd drag herself out of bed; she had put on her backpack and headed out the front door. She was walking aimlessly, staring down at her shoes. I forgot how much faster flying was, Buttercup hated being 'grounded' but not enough to brake her vow, it wasn't like she was in a rush to get anywhere anyway. Her arms were covered in goose flesh, but she refused to wear a jacket for two reasons, one was that she wanted her green jacket—it was her favorite, and the other was the shear fact that Buttercup wanted to feel something. Something other than numb. The cold was better than nothing, in a way it felt good.
Without thinking she turned abruptly into a coffee shop, she hadn't been out much since the accident, Buttercup didn't really know what to expect.
The little bell on the door jingled as she walked in, there weren't many people in the little shop but as they realized who had walked in the stared openly. Buttercup's cheeks grew hot as she took a seat in the back corner, trying to appear inconspicuous. It didn't seem to work very well. She placed her backpack on the little table in front of her and slid down in the chair, now she wished she had worn a coat, Buttercup wanted to pull it around herself and disappear. The remaining customers ordered before leaving casting quick glances her way. Buttercup slid further and further down in her seat.
Butch strode through the hallways with fierce intent. He scanned the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of green or a snippet of short black hair, nothing. No Buttercup. Brick and Boomer were becoming suspicious, he must tread carefully. Butch didn't want them to find out that he could maybe, possibly be going soft. He'd taken all the precautions, his brothers were at home in bed, they rarely showed up to school and when they did it was always late. Swallowing hard he pushed the through the crowd. If Butch couldn't find Buttercup this morning he would have to find one of her sisters.
Then, suddenly there she was—Bubbles. Butch smiled maliciously, too easy. In Butch's opinion Bubbles was a wimp and the easiest to get information out of. Staying several people behind, he stalked the blonde pigtails through the crowded halls right into the art class. Peaking around the corner Butch saw her, back to the door painting at an easel, she was alone. She makes this too easy Butch thought, he quietly flew across the classroom and landed behind her. Bubble hummed quietly to herself, lost in her own world, Butch placed his hands over her eyes.
"Guess who" he said tightening his grip. Bubbles jumped a foot.
"Oh, um, well" She squeaked trying to pull away, Butch held her tighter.
"Let's cut to the chase, where's your sister?"
"Uh, I think Blossoms in the—"but before she could finish Butch cut her off.
"Buttercup, where's Buttercup"
"Who is this?" Bubbles said a note of suspicion in her voice. She quickly pulled away and lightly burned his hands with her eye beams. Butch yelped and pulled away quickly.
"You bitch" He twitched, shaking out his hands trying to rid them of the burning sensation.
"Butch" Bubble drew in a sharp breath, eyes widening. This wasn't exactly going as planned; attempting to gain some composure Butch crossed his arms over his chest.
"What do you want with my sister" Bubbles took a battle stance. Butch shrugged wanting to appear nonchalant, his face betrayed him; he could feel the heat rushing through his cheeks.
"Well for your information mister, I have no idea where my sister is and even if I did I wouldn't tell the likes of you!" In a rage Bubbles shoved him, hard, and stormed out of the room, tipping over her easel.
Well. At least now I know she's not at school Butch thought scratching behind his ear. Raising his foot he prepared to stomp through the flimsy paper of the canvas, something made Butch pause. Bending down her peered closer at the painting, the air rushed out of him like a swift punch to the gut. Butch went reeling back, grabbing the corner of the canvas he hurled it across the room with such force it cracked the wall. His blood was boiling over, he could feel his body twitching, Butch slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. This could wait. Buttercup first, Buttercup first.
Few got some of that out of my system, thanks for reading! Remember to review