💚Forgettabout that douche💚

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"What the fuck did he do."

The voice rang out through the house. Buttercup coulda heard it even without her super-hearing. The question wasn't even a question, he was a demanding answers. He was angry, looking for said answers at the place where people should know what happened.

"Butch, we don't know." Blossoms soft whisper could not of been heard by a regular person.

Buttercup scoffed from her room. Curled up in a ball underneath her covers, she sighed. She wasn't a regular person. Maybe if she had been then...

"You don't know?! How do you not know!" There his voice was again. Loud and giving her a headache. She closed her eyes and pulled the blankets over her head. "We both know it was the fucking son of a bitch!"

There was a quick swoosh from downstairs, followed by the angry growl of Butch. "You move outta my way, Blossom. I don't give a shit if you think she's not in the right mindset to talk. Move outta my fucking path." The way he talked, as if his only purpose in life was to get to Buttercup... it made her want to shout for Blossom to just let him up.

"First of all, language." Her voice still barley above a whisper. "Second, stop shouting. She's going through a rough patch and I doubt she'd want to know you're here. Third, Mi—"

"Excuse me?" The tone he took on could only mean one thing. Buttercup pictured his eyes narrowing into slits, his signature smirk dropping into a scowl, a frown wrinkling his brow. Green eyes beginning to glow with rage. "I didn't do anything. And so what if she knows I'm here? At least I'm trying to let her know I care about her well being. What are you doing, huh? Just sitting on your ass while she's up in her room doing who knows what!"

"Butch Jojo..." Blossom warned. "You have five minutes to leave this house before I make you go forcefully." Buttercup could imagine the red-heads stance. Arms crossed, nose in the air, her own eyes glowing mimicking Butch's, only they'd be pink.

"No, Blossom. You can kick me and punch me, but until I see my girl to make sure she's okay... you're not getting me to leave the damn house."

Buttercup could feel her heart swell. His girl. It felt nice to have someone call her that... especially seeing as how her day had been going. She was so close to shouting for Blossom to just let him up. She wanted a familiar face... probably needed someone who wouldn't make fun of her. Or maybe he would. She'd be okay with that too. She needed someone who could read her mood and know when to stop and when to continue... someone other than her sisters who kept telling her that everything was gonna be okay, that everything is okay.

That's the thing, though. Nothing was fine. And so far, based on the rage in his voice and the volume he was speaking at, Butch was the only one who seemed to notice.

Buttercup sat up on her bed and dragged herself over to the door. She was about to open up the door and call for her best friend, but paused when she heard him talk again. She must've missed Blossoms sentence.

"No, you don't understand." He spat. "She's up in her room, probably tucked away under piles of blankets to say that's why her face is red. Because she's 'hot'. When in reality her face is red because she's been crying. She doesn't cry over nothing, so when she cries... it's big." Buttercup sucked in a breath. Her eyes traveling to her bed and all the blankets. "She'll yawn to cover up her eyes watering, and blame lack of sleep for the bloodshot look of 'em.

"As her sister you should take it upon yourself to at least check in on her, which I know you won't be doing. I betcha that you're too busy trying to tell her she's overreacting over some lame ass guy who 'isn't worth her time', and that 'she's so much better than him' and that 'everything is fine', but Blossom... it's not fine." It was as if he'd read her mind. 

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