Buttercup's Point of View—

I sat on the edge of the glistening stream, gazing at my reflection in the water.

"Hey Buttercup."

I turned to the familiar voice to see Butch. He smiled weakly, his hair matted to his forehead, his green eyes dull and lifeless. He sat beside me and grabbed a stone from the ground, tossing it into the water. I stared intently as the stone skidded on top of the water three times before it sank to the bottom. I turned my gaze to him. He looked so… so miserable. Could it have been because of me?

"Hey," I choked out, avoiding his eye contact.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gently hurdled another stone across the surface.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

His features formed into a deep scowl of thought and contemplation.

I eyed him curiously, cocking my head to the side. Though I only found Butch as an associate and nothing more, I was interested in him. Fascinated, even. We knew nearly everything about each other yet we were total mysteries to each other at the same time. Confusing, I know. It bothers me to no end. We have this sort of mind reading thing going on. I could figure out his emotions and the meaning behind his words by just staring into his eyes. But this was an emotion I was unfamiliar with. I couldn't read him.

"Do you hate me?"

I snapped out of my trance and furrowed my brows.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not. I was just pissed off at you."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Do you really think I'm a bitch?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise, then furrowed again.

"No."

Another pause.

"I.…"

His voice began to trail off as he looked away and shook his head.

Butch's Point of View—

I wanted so badly to fondle her and cuddle her and snuggle against her, but that would just make things worse. If I made any sudden signs of affection, she would become confused and resent me, push me aside as to figure out her own feelings and emotions. She wouldn't possibly comprehend the meaning of it all. I was so unbearably close to becoming hers when Mitch had to come and fuck it all up. There was no way I would ever make it past the friend zone with him around.

I felt her intent gaze slice through my thoughts and I looked up. She stared at me for a moment, studying my expression. I forced upon my best poker face that I could muster as the butterflies continued to flutter through my stomach. Why me? Why did Buttercup have to have this effect on me? It was certainly a blissful, euphoric blessing but was also an agonizing curse. I couldn't have her. But Mitch could. She owns me. Yet I have not yet captured her heart. This was so utterly frustrating yet deep in my heart I knew that it would be worth it. I wanted to spend my life with Buttercup. I needed to spend my life with her—she was the only person that could handle my intense aggression and meet it with her own. At the same time, the more time I spent with Buttercup, the more I suffered internally. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize that I can't have her. But I loved her. There was nothing in the world I wouldn't do for her.

I sighed and glanced at Buttercup, her thoughtful expression unwavering.

What was I doing here? The feelings would remain the same. Always have and always will. I grinned a bit, shaking my head as I cast another stone to the stream as I discovered a sudden epiphany. It was very simple, and I was mentally relieved when I finally accepted the truth. I was a fool. But I was a special kind of fool. A ridiculously infatuated fool with an intense longing for the girl beside me. Perhaps the worst type of fool.

I was a lovesick fool.

But, maybe I liked the feeling. Maybe I liked the feeling of being helplessly in love with her. Maybe I liked the feeling of belonging to her and no one else. Maybe I liked the feeling of not being able to quite have that effect on her, but she can simply look at me and I'm all hers. Maybe I liked her being so selfish and not allowing me to go free. Maybe I didn't want to go free.

Unknown Point of View—

Why the hell wasn't Buttercup answering her phone? She better not be with that bastard. He couldn't give a damn about her. A shrill scream of aggravation erupted from my throat as I ripped my pillow in half and flung my PSP across the room. I watched angrily as it sailed across the heaps of clothes lying on the floor and smacked against the wall. I needed to take my frustration out somehow.

I hated feeling like this. I felt weak and vulnerable. I grabbed the nearest pillow and buried my face into it. Every ounce of resentment and bitterness and envy jetted from my throat as I screamed into the pillow, the plush case muffling the vicious cry.

I looked up from the pillow and glared at my phone, my mocha brown hair sticking to my sweaty forehead.

Blossom's Point of View—

I was silently reading a history book when Bubbles excitedly bounded through the door. I gazed up at her out of the corner of my reading glasses, gingerly wiping a few strands of hair from my face.

"Hello, Blossom!"

I blinked for a moment.

"Hi, Bubbles."

"Guess what?"

I looked up at her, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What?"

"I think I have a crush!"

I turned towards her, gently closing the history book and slipping off my glasses.

"Is it Boomer?"

"How'd you know?" she asked as she sat beside me on the couch.

"You're always talking about him."

She smiled sheepishly before twiddling her thumbs.

"It's just that he's so… different. He's really sweet and innocent and I think it's cute how he gets so nervous around me."

"That's good, Bubbles. I just hope you don't fall for him so fast. Try not to, at least."

She smiled and nodded.

"I guess I did develop crushes so fast when I was younger."

I grinned at her.

"So, what did you two do in the room Saturday?"

"Oh, we just colored. I still have his drawing up in my room."

I nodded and waited for her to continue.

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Where's Buttercup? She should have been here before me, since I had to stay after school and all," Bubbles said, gazing around the room.

"I don't know… I just hope she isn't with Mitch. Now are you beginning to see why I don't like him?"

She thought for a moment.

"Yeah, I do! Poor Butch…they were best friends."

I shrugged and closed my eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

"Hey Blossom?"

"Yeah, Bubbles?"

She faltered for a moment before continuing.

"Do you think Butch would ever hurt Buttercup on purpose?"

"Of course not. He just loses his temper and is really aggressive is all."

She sighed and leaned back on the arm of the beige couch, her pigtails streaming down the side.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just being paranoid. But it really scared me when Butch was getting so angry with her."

I listened to her words intently and smiled slightly. Bubbles had reason to be scared; she had never known that Butch had that side to him. Buttercup, however, has seen it before. Just not directed towards her.

I winced a bit as the scene replayed in my mind.

I hoped that she would give Butch another chance; I really did. I knew he didn't mean to hurt her; that was never his intention. I took a deep breath and turned on the television.

Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter was so short. I ran out of ideas. I know this isn't a legit excuse, but I hope it's an explanation. :\