The pink haired girl moved to press her knee against his, a silent gesture in an attempt to gain the upper hand on Buttercup, but to her dismay, he pulled away. They sat on a rocky ledge under the weeping willow, the same one Buttercup used to bury her pirate treasure under for Mitch to find.
Before she had realized, Buttercup was standing dumbly in front of them. Hands to her sides in an awkward, stiff stance. Her body moved much faster than her brain could process what was happening. This was definitely that last time she was getting this drunk.
Butch took a breath to speak.
"I want to dance." Buttercup said hastily, beating him to it. She stared hard into his forest green eyes, refusing to look at the other pair of eyes burning right through her skull.
A gleaming smile immediately appeared on his face. It was just like Buttercup to show up and save him, like always. What Butch mistakenly took as a friendship, quickly spiraled into an annoyance as Ami began making passes at him at every given opportunity. If Butch had known she would have taken this much of a liking to him after showing her how to skate, well actually, how to stand on a skateboard, he would have just broken it over his knee the moment she asked.
Ami perked up as she cleared her throat, "We were just about to-"
"With you." Buttercup said sternly, taking the last few steps to close the distance between her and Butch, making an obvious effort to leave Ami out. At this point, her face was inches away from his, and the fabric of her shirt and the skin of her hands grazed against him.
A mischievous glimmer sprung in his eyes, "I'd love that. But first," Buttercup jumped at the firmness of his hand around her forearm, "let's sit for a second," he said, pulling her down to sit next to him.
Buttercup slammed down harder than she expected to, her body feeling heavier than usual, but thankfully Butch's grip on her was strong. Still, the clumsiness in her movements was noticeable enough for Butch to glance at her curiously, but only for a second.
"I was actually about to ask him the same thing." Ami interrupted as she rose to stand in front of the both of them in an effort to be seen. Buttercup averted her eyes.
On the other hand, Butch side eyed her as if she had just said the most ridiculous thing. It seemed that his lack of response to Ami's texts and constant invitations weren't enough to get the message across. Without breaking eye contact with Ami, he pulled Buttercup closer until her entire side was squished against his.
Ami's eyes narrowed, her eyes shooting back and forth between the both of them before she let out a grumble. Her pink hair nearly whipped both of them as she turned on her heels. Buttercup and Butch watched in amusement as she stormed off with deliberate, hard stomps.
Suddenly, Buttercup turned to face Butch, their green eyes meeting. The speed of her movements and the sour expression on her face startled Butch as he raised an eyebrow at her. He knew that the morning had been rough between them, but he knew her well enough to know that whatever this was about was unrelated. The words tumbled out of Buttercup before she could stop them.
"What was that?" Buttercup asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What was what?" Butch replied with a laugh, finding her agitation slightly endearing. Oh, it was so like him to laugh in a moment like this.
"That!" She exclaimed, gesturing in the direction that Ami had left.
Butch shrugged, "She just came up to me and started talking my ear off."
"And?" Buttercup pressed.
Butch's face twisted up into confusion before he laughed under his breath. Buttercup's face maintained that same, sour little expression as he leaned back, scanning her wildly, "Are you jealous?" he asked, half-joking.
Buttercup felt a flash of panic rush over her. "No! No. No, I-" she lied, and badly, as she stumbled over her words, "T-that's dumb, seriously, don't say that. It's just that- I just- I-"
The words slipped and slid around in her mouth.
Butch scoffed. "She's not my type." He said simply. His words seemed to put a stop to Buttercup's train of incoherence, and she found herself thankful for it in spite of herself. Her shoulders relaxed in response.
"Oh?" Buttercup asked mindlessly. She hated that she felt relieved. Her gaze fell to the grass below them until she felt Butch watching her. Her green eyes looked up to meet his, a cheeky expression plastered on his face.
"Yeah, well, I uh… I like girls with black hair. And uh," he hovered his hand in the air, "This tall? I think?" His eyes narrowed as a huge grin appeared on his face, he tilted his head at her, "wait, how tall are you again?" he asked.
Buttercup rolled her eyes into the back of her head with a groan before reaching her arm backwards and driving her fist into his side. "We're having a serious conversation, this isn't time to practice on me."
Butch grunted, retracting from her immediately. He looked over at her with both annoyance and amusement. When they were growing up, a very reluctant Buttercup would let Butch practice flirting with her. Stupid little one-liners, and snarky responses. She'd either give him a thumbs up or gag in response. However, it had been a while since they'd done this. I'm not practicing you idiot, Butch thought, but he didn't say anything. In all honesty, he was a bit relieved that it had shot over her head.
"Okay, okay," Butch laughed slowly, "But really, she's not."
Buttercup nodded, not really knowing how to respond. She was more focused on keeping herself upright now that Butch wasn't pressed against her. And although he enjoyed the banter as if things were just fine and dandy, the events of that morning loomed over their heads like a bloated, overweight elephant in the room. They could both feel it, especially now that the topic of Ami had run its course. As they both paused, they could faintly hear Boomer screeching into the mic from the front of the house.
"So…" Butch began, elongating the word in an exaggerated manner, "Are we good now?" he asked.
Buttercup turned to look at him, but just as her lips parted to answer, Butch cocked his head to the side and stared at her, eyes wide as his pupils bounced up and down her face. Buttercup was pinker than Blossom's eyeballs, swaying side to side like a pendulum, and the way she had shifted just put her directly underneath a hanging bulb which allowed Butch to see her better.
"Bro… are you drunk?" Butch let out a hearty laugh at the sight, his eyes fixed on her the entire time he held his stomach to contain his laughter.
A small laugh of her own escaped as Buttercup covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. Her skin was hot to the touch, "Shit," she muttered into her palms.
"Jeez." was all Butch replied as he reached out and ruffled her hair. When the feeling of his fingers on her scalp went away, Buttercup removed her hands from her eyes and turned to look at him, noticing that he had inched a tad closer towards her.
"Look, I came to this douchebag's house, who I fucking hate, just so I could see you. Even if you were too mad to talk to me… As long as I could see you…" Butch trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. He didn't know how to put his feelings into words, and quite honestly, he was feeling a little self conscious about it as the words tumbled out of his mouth clumsily, "I just, I care a lot… about you… like, a lot…So… I… Yeah." he sat there, trying to rack his brain for the right words.
The colored bulbs strung from tree to tree in Mitch's backyard illuminated their faces just enough for them to be able to reach each other's expressions. And when Buttercup looked over at Butch, she noticed his gaze aimed down at his hands, his face scrunched as if he was thinking a little too hard.
It was at this moment that Buttercup thought about Bubbles with a hint of jealousy. Or even Blossom. Or any normal girl, really. Because these are the moments that people call opportunities. She looked at his hands and ached to touch them, to say that she cared a lot about him too, that she was sorry, that he meant more to her than she could ever say. But the words caught in her throat the same way the meat of a chicken does when it's overcooked and dry and scratches your insides until you cough it out. But Buttercup couldn't cough the words out.
"Thank you." She finally said. If liquid courage was really a thing, then Buttercup was the exception.
But that was still enough for him, anyway. Butch's smile appeared instantaneously as he turned to her, "Don't thank me, Butters. I'm your best friend, aren't I?"
"You are." She confirmed.
But then his smile dimmed a tad, "So you trust me, then, right?"
Buttercup blinked, "Of course I do."
Now his smile was gone and in its place was something just reminiscent of it, "Then don't question me when I'm trying to help you."
They sat there for a moment, and Butch expected her to argue, but he felt no anger radiating off of her. For once.
"They say I'm the strongest but I don't feel like it." Her voice was small but steady.
Butch grinned. Buttercup glared at him in response. "When we were kids, do you know why Brick always sent me after you?"
Buttercup looked up at the branches of the willow tree that swung above their heads as the memories played in her mind like a highlight reel of some sorts. Brick and Boomer would go up against her at times, but it was only if she went for them first, and it was never too long before Butch would hurl himself forward, interjecting with ferocity before the other two brothers flew off after Blossom and Bubbles. But it was true, Brick and Boomer were mostly never even in her line of sight, because it was always Butch after her like some sort of crazed puppy.
"What about it?"
"I was assigned to you, because we all agreed you were a real pain in the ass, and Brick thought I was the only one crazy enough for the job. You overpower Boomer, and your movements are too unpredictable for Brick, and it drove him insane."
Buttercup smiled, but it was faint. "That was back then."
"Look, I know the whole shitshow with your Chemical X sucks, but, remember when we all randomly sprouted limbs, and fingers, and noses, and shit?" Butch reminded her, "That was fucking weird, but we're all fine. I'm sure this is some bio science reaction whatever-the-fuck and it'll be fine." Butch gave her an encouraging smack on the back, and she jolted to the side before ricocheting back. "But in the meantime, I gotta keep my eye on you."
"But-"
"Ah!" Butch held up his finger at her.
"But-"
"Ah!What did I just say?" He said again, drawing closer.
She couldn't help but crack a smile. Butch let his arm fall back down as soon as he saw the corners of her lips curl upwards. From her, a voluntary smile was the same thing to him as a white flag raised into the sky.
Buttercup knew there was no point in arguing, she had no ground to stand on and she knew it. She turned to face him, "Wanna dance?"
Without giving him any time to answer, she hopped off the ledge and yanked him along.
"I thought you'd never ask." He chuckled as he allowed himself to be dragged by her.
Unbeknownst to them, yellowed eyeballs belonging to a hidden figure lay hidden in the underbrush, watching as their forms grew smaller and smaller as they headed towards the front yard. With a small gust of wind, the bright yellow light of these lurking eyes disappeared, sinking into the darkness of the foliage.
…
The sky was now dark blue and riddled with stars that shimmered over their heads as they made their way through the crowd swarming Mitch's driveway. Although Buttercup could feel Butch's hand in hers, she kept glancing behind her to make sure he was still in tow. One of the times she turned around, she caught him yanking a red cup out of the hands of one of the football players.
"Hey!" the jock yelled angrily as his football buddies around him stepped back. No one would ever touch Butch. Buttercup recognized him immediately, one of the popular football players that picked on everyone. Double D and Craig complained about him all of the time. He was built like a tank, tall like a tree and unnaturally muscular like one of those wrestlers on the television. Normally, he'd punch the lights out of anyone who dared disrespect him, but to fight Butch Jojo was a death wish.
Buttercup let out a laugh as she watched Butch antagonize him, sipping the cup in the guy's face as it grew increasingly red with anger. Eagerly, she pulled Butch forward once more, wanting nothing more in that moment than to dance. There was a new band playing in the garage, a group of incoming freshmen, whose guitar riffs and drum patterns were fast and melodic. The sound of the music and the liveliness of the crowd ignited an excitement in Buttercup as she turned to face Butch, wrapping her arms around his neck as they bounced wildly from side to side.
Soon, all their friends had found them in the crowd. At first, Blossom and Bubbles were looking for Buttercup, and Bubbles had spotted Butch's head sticking out of the crowd like a sore thumb due to his height. It was a tactic she always used to find Buttercup in a crowd, find Butch's giraffe self, and Buttercup was usually right next to him. As Blossom and Bubbles cut through the crowd, Bubbles was hoping that Buttercup and Butch had fixed whatever it was that needed fixing, so that it would in fact be their sister he was with and not anyone else. And to her delight, she was right.
After pushing the last few people aside, Bubbles saw a head of raven hair bobbing up and down as Buttercup danced without a care in the world, her arms hanging onto Butch as he swung her side to side to the beat of the music.
"Hey you guys!" Bubbles greeted excitedly as Blossom threw her hands up as they began dancing beside them.
"This little lady's got a lot of energy tonight!" Butch exclaimed gleefully, pretending to be out of breath as he continued to swing Buttercup at every angle, making the girls smile widely at the sight.
At the same time Mandy, Brick, and Boomer elbowed their way to the same spot.
"You guys missed the Can of Worms set!" Boomer whined loudly as if it was the worst betrayal that could have ever been committed.
"Then kick these fuckers off and give us an encore!" Butch guffawed in response.
For that moment, everything was in watercolor. The band continued to play song after song, all of them moving to the rhythm, laughing hysterically as Boomer initiated a dance battle with any opponent he could find. They posed and jumped on each other as the flashes of phones and cameras attempted to capture the moment. Bubbles held onto her camera for dear life, the crowd swaying in unison threatening to pull her camera from her hands and into the deep abyss of shuffling feet. For one of the photos, Brick had grabbed Blossom and kissed her gently, "That one is going to be my favorite pic of the night." he told her affectionately as Boomer crumped furiously behind them. Bubbles tapped Boomer on the shoulder, and thus began the dance battle between two lovers as the crowd opened up for them, screaming and hollering as they went on.
For a flash of a second, Buttercup caught a glimpse of Marie and Double D exchanging numbers in the outer crowd, which made Buttercup grab Mandy's arm as they pointed and squealed. At that moment, Butch's red cup accidentally flew out of his hand and hit some guy on the head. Again, the boy turned around to start a fight, but clamped his mouth down and whipped back around at record breaking speeds after seeing it was Butch Jojo.
Buttercup could smell the sweat off of everyone around her, and people kept stepping on her feet and elbowing her sides, but she was smiling, and smiling, and smiling. And Butch was smiling right back at her.
Eventually, a dull headache began to creep up on Buttercup as she realized how freakishly thirsty she was. At the very least, all that dancing had sobered her up, sort of. After a few moments of trying to power through it, Buttercup stopped bouncing and pulled Butch down by his shirt, low enough for her to talk into his ear, "I'm gonna grab a water."
"Want me to come?" He asked.
Buttercup shook her head as she pulled away, "No, you gotta stay to tell me who wins." she grinned, pointing at Bubbles and Boomer who were still in the middle of their dance battle. Butch turned to look as Boomer began spinning on his head, driving the crowd into an eruption of cheers.
"My money's on Bubbles," Butch grinned before turning away as Buttercup began to exit the crowd. As she made her way through, another ripple of commotion passed. Oh, Bubbles. She was probably pulling her signature move, one that always won her the dance battle… An octuplicate backflip. Thanks, Chemical X!
By the time Buttercup reached the inside of Mitch's house, she was feeling increasingly dehydrated.
The water pitcher on the table. Empty. The brita filter. Empty. The water in the fridge. Busted. Basement. Empty.
"Shit," she mumbled to herself.
When she emerged from the basement, she saw an unattended cup of water in a red solo cup on the kitchen island. Was it gross? A little. But she didn't care. She grabbed it and threw the whole thing back, desperate to quench her thirst.
"Holy crap!" she sputtered as the liquid burned her throat and warmed her stomach. That was definitely not water. The cup fell from her hand onto the table, rolling away as Buttercup gagged.
"Bubbles won." Butch's voice announced behind her.
"I knew she would." Buttercup replied before turning to spit in the sink, "Ugh!" Buttercup groaned, sinking to the floor. The taste was disgusting, and she was still thirsty.
"What's with you?" Butch asked in a teasing tone as he sank to her level. He crouched beside her, handing her his water bottle. "Here."
"You had water?" she complained, quickly unscrewing the lid and drinking as fast as she could. Buttercup let out a sigh of contentment.
"I ran to Boomer's van to get it. I figured everyone would have gone through all the water already considering how sloppy the crowd is right now." Butch watched as Buttercup chugged more water before she belched while screwing the lid back on. She handed the water bottle back to him.
"No, drink it all." Butch insisted, pushing it back towards her.
"I did." Buttercup laughed. Little did she know, this would be the last thing she would remember of this night.
"Well, that's good." he replied with a small chuckle, taking his water bottle back.
He then watched as Buttercup stood. Or at least, tried to. Buttercup reached up towards the kitchen counter to use it to pull herself up off the floor. Her whole body felt like she was submerged in water, as if she had to fight an all encompassing weight to make any sort of movement. Butch let out a laugh as he watched her, but after her third attempt, it wasn't all that funny anymore.
"Uh, Buttercup?" Butch asked slowly, setting his water bottle down. "Do you need help?" he asked, reaching for her.
"I do not." she replied, her words slurred and choppy. The room was but a swirl of colors and shapes to her at this point.
As soon as Buttercup succeeded at wobbling upwards, she fell forward as if her face was being magnetized to the ground. Butch immediately caught her in his arms, stifling a snort, "For fuck's sake, Butters." He looked down at her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. There was not a single thought behind those eyes of hers right now.
"Ugh, Butch, tell Mitch that his house is spinning… He-" she burped loudly, "He should probably get that checked out."
Butch laughed, holding her limp body in his arms, "I'll tell someone to let him know." He mused, but then he looked down at her again, noticing her slow breathing and the tension in her face. This was not a fun level of being drunk anymore. "Jesus, Butters, how much did you drink?"
Buttercup mumbled something that sounded like it could be English, but definitely was not. Then a small clatter was heard as the red cup rolled onto the floor. Then everything clicked. Why Buttercup was spitting and sputtering when he had walked in, how desperate she was to quench her thirst. She'd probably accidentally downed a whole cup of straight up liquor.
"Oookay," Butch exhaled, scooping her up in his arms bridal style. She was as light as a feather, her limbs swinging around helplessly as he made his way towards the door with her as if he were rocking a toddler to sleep.
"N-no, I-I can walk." Buttercup protested, her eyes closed.
"I'm sure you can." Butch rolled his eyes at her stubbornness as he opened the front door with his foot.
As Butch carried her across the lawn, people were turning to look at them, pointing and giggling at the sight of him carrying her like a knight with his damsel in distress.
"Nothing to see here, people!" Butch grumbled under his breath. As he was distracted, Buttercup had a newfound surge of energy and jumped out of his arms.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Butch exclaimed, lunging towards her, which she surprisingly dodged, though clumsily, as she stumbled back. She caught her footing before realizing she was tired. With that, she willingly falls into his arms.
"I love this song." Buttercup whispered into his shirt. The bands were done playing, and Mitch and a few others were now putting away their gear as they listened to the radio on the speaker. Mazzy Star was playing at a low volume as the people at the party began to wind down.
"We can listen to this song in the comfort of your bed." He replied, still trying to drag her towards Boomer's van. To his dismay, Buttercup sat down on the ground, her arms dangling as he pulled on them, "Buttercup, come on, dude." he groaned, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.
"C'mooooooon, Butch, let's enjoy this, pleaaaase!"
Butch looked down at her, prepared to argue. But then, he saw her green eyes twinkling in the dim light behind her heavy eyelids, and her lips, in their pouty state, upturned into a small smile. Suddenly, all plans of him denying her were out the window as he led her to the front steps of the porch where they could sit. God forbid she try to walk around or dance right now.
Buttercup leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes closed. After a moment of Buttercup's breathing in the background of the gentle tune that played, Butch realized he had been staring at her, admiring her button nose and the way the strands of hair around her face stuck to her cheeks with sweat. His eyes flickered down to her lips as they parted slightly as she let out a slow exhale. He sighed.
Why did it have to be you? He thought.
Suddenly, she came back to life as her eyes opened, and Butch's eyes widened as she caught him red-handed, staring at her with the intensity that he was.
"Um," he spoke, but spit hit the back of his throat as he forgot how to talk and he began to sputter and cough.
Buttercup smiled up at him, her eyes never leaving his. Suddenly, everything around them seemed so far away. Her breath was warm against his cheek. The music was nothing but a steady hum as Butch's heartbeat began to play in his ears like a war drum. As her lips neared his, they parted ever so slightly.
If liquid courage was really a thing, then Buttercup was a perfect example of it.
No way, Butch thought, no way, no way, no way, no way.
Buttercup's face hovered just centimeters from his when Butch felt her palms drive straight into his abdomen, shoving him back with an almost violent force. Her neck and back contorted disturbingly as she heaved, like something getting exorcised, as everything she had drank and eaten spilled out of her and onto the pavement.
"F-uck," she managed to groan before another wave of puke forced its way out of her.
"Shit," Butch jumped up, trying to avoid the splash back.
"Buttercup? Oh my God, oh my God." Bubbles could be heard as she ran towards them.
"Absolutely not, we are going home right now." Blossom said in tow, the car keys jingling in her hands.
…
Bubbles and Blossom wrestled with Buttercup's lifeless body as she snored loudly.
"Get her arms," Blossom huffed as she tried to pull Buttercup's dirty clothes over her head, but they kept getting stuck.
"One sec," Bubbles replied as she finished wiping Buttercup's face with a cleansing wipe. She threw the wipe into a nearby trash can before pulling Buttercup's arms over her head as Blossom pulled her outfit off of her, exposing her slightly bruised limbs. Little did they know, the bruises looked a million times worse at the beginning of the day, and all that was left were a few lightly colored spots. It was nothing of concern, but just the fact that she was bruised was a cause of alarm. It should take a lot for supers like them to bruise.
"Blossom?" Bubbles whispered.
Blossom looked down at her sister, eyes widening.
For them, bruises didn't normally occur unless they were hit by the force of a semi-truck going at least 85 mph. Even then, bruises or scrapes they suffered were usually gone within an hour. Broken bones lasted about a few hours. Any major injuries were only major for about a day. And unfortunately, due to a freak accident including Butch, they found out that severed limbs grew back in approximately two to three days.
"Remember what the Professor said, Bubbles," Blossom reminded her quietly, "We can't let her fight. These bruises, and the fact that she got so drunk tonight…" Blossom's face scrunched up as she thought it over in her head, "Something is definitely up with her Chemical X."
As Blossom wriggled Buttercup into clean pajamas, Bubbles stood to the side, shaking ever so slightly with building anxiety, "Why is this happening?" she asked in a small voice.
"I don't know," Blossom answered honestly, "But the Professor is working on it and I'm sure everything will be back to normal soon. Buttercup is strong."
"Buttercup is strong." Bubbles agreed with a small smile. If Buttercup wasn't as strong as she was, then they would be worried. But Buttercup was Buttercup and there was no need for concern about anything… Except for what she would do in spite of herself.
"Good job, team." Blossom joked, high fiving Bubbles. After a moment of struggle, Buttercup was finally tucked safely into bed. The two then looked at their raven haired sister, her hair spread over her pillows wildly.
"Should we put socks on her?" Bubbles asked.
"No, she always peels them off in the middle of the night." Butch said from the doorway.
"We put a glass of water by her bed, plugged in her phone, and set an alarm." Blossom turned to look at Bubbles, "Anything else?"
"I think that's good." Bubbles exclaimed, "BUTTERCUP! DO YOU NEED ANYTHING ELSE?" Bubbles yelled loudly into her ear.
"Shh," Blossom hissed, "You're going to wake the Professor."
"I forgot." Bubbles smiled apologetically.
Butch laughed. He then sat down on the bed next to her sleeping form and ruffled her hair gently, "Goodnight, Buttercup."
…
Left, right, left right why is this so fucking hard? Buttercup was running again, and she was even more tired than before. It was as if she was fighting an invisible force whose sole objective was to root her into the ground. She knew she didn't have to look back, she knew how close the fire was, turning around to face it would only paralyze her, or worse, convince her that it was too late. That there was no point. Why not just stand here and let it happen? The flames would shout, Buttercup's refusal lay in the fact that she would not turn around and look. She could feel it, the undeniable heat consuming her as the fire engulfed everything around her, threatening to close in and suffocate her to nothingness. She could hardly hear anything over her own heartbeat as she ran, but the sound of laughter sliced through her like a papercut.
When she jerked upwards, she could've sworn the laughter rang in her ears for moments after. Alarmed, sweaty, and disoriented, Buttercup gasped and sputtered for air, her fingers clawing at her throat as if she was actually stuffed full of soot. Once is a coincidence, but twice was a pattern. Mandy always claimed that recurring dreams carried some sort of weight, but Buttercup was too annoyed and tired to remember the fact.
Frazzled beyond relief, and with a dull headache, Buttercup pulled herself out of bed. The one good thing though, was that she had woken up at a decent time to prepare for her first day of senior year.
"You look like crap." Bubbles observed from behind as Buttercup slowly combed out her tangled hair in the bathroom mirror. Bubbles' pale hands moved swiftly and effortlessly as she took her blonde hair and crafted two perfectly neat braids with two yellow bows at each end. Buttercup had been absently staring at her reflection as she ran the brush through her hair, but hadn't really been looking at herself until Bubbles said something. It was true, Buttercup looked oddly pale in comparison to her usual, golden, sun-kissed complexion, and the bags under her eyes were of no help.
"A pretty crap," Bubbles amended, "but still crap."
"I've been having nightmares." Buttercup muttered, setting the hairbrush down.
"You sure it's not from drinking? Boomer says he gets scary drunk dreams," said Bubbles, mindlessly.
"Can you keep your voice down?" Blossom hissed, "I'm sure the Professor would love to hear about that." At that moment, Blossom appeared in the doorway. "I've got to get to school early," she added, "I've got some things to smooth over with the student council before our back to school assembly."
The two sisters watched her disappear down the stairs before Buttercup turned back to look at herself in the mirror, inspecting herself. At that moment, she heard her window open.