southpark is a close knit community, in which y/n's family has woven their selves into. for better or for worse? depends on the day. a chance to get away from the cold, mountainous, town arises from an invite to tolkien blacks's very own private isl...
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"dude. i can't take it anymore." my attention peaks at this. i roll over, my elbows supporting the weight of my head as i look over at him curiously. "can you please fix my hair?" stan says, his eyes pleading with me as a shadow of a smile graces his face.
we're both laying on the floor in his spacious living room, the carpet beneath us burning red imprints into our skin as it's crushed under our unmoving statures. we've been here for awhile and gone nowhere. conversation, or otherwise.
"yeah. oh! i just remembered this. last night when i got home butters was in the living room and i thought it was you." he drops his head back down onto the plush carpet with a heavy sigh. "leave me alone." he rolls over on his side away from me, the childish manner of actions correlating with his words. "i'm serious! you guys look like twins." i'm just kidding. butters looks significantly younger than stan.
"don't have to make me feel worse than i already do, y/n." he says, his voice softer than usual. i hope i didn't actually hurt his feelings, but i don't see being compared to butters as an aggressive insult. he's almost a grown man. he turns back over to face me, both of us adjusting ourselves until we're lying on our sides facing eachother.
"do you want to watch a movie?" i suggest just to fill the absence. "not really." his almost-black eyes bore into mine, his long eye lashes scarcely blinking. "do you want to have a staring contest?" it seems we've already initiated one, might as well make it an offical competition. "what- is looking illegal now?" he half-heartedly jokes, still butt-hurt at his comparison to butters. "staring should be."
he abruptly sits up, "i wasn't!" he refutes. i sit up too, copying his action. "whatever you say." it's too hot to argue. even with the fans and air conditioning it's still too hot inside the house, but it's only worse outside. if only i was on an island, surrounded by water, with a minimum of three pools at my service. imagine!
stan groans dramatically, throwing his head back towards the tall ceilings. "we should go swimming." he just groans again at this, "it's too hot for that shit." to go swimming? it's too hot to go swimming? "what?" i laugh at his strangeness. "leave me alone bro." he repeats, shaking his head.
maybe there's a bit of truth in his statement, we've been hanging out for like three hours? honestly i don't even know. "you don't mean that." i tell him. how could he? if he really meant it he would have kicked me out by now..i think. "how would you know?" jesus christ; he's so defensive today!
"whatever. can we just do something- please?" i have no interest in arguing today at all. my own house is exhausting enough, tired out through drawn out arguments. bebe and wendy got into again last night (they do almost every night) because wendy wasn't invited along to our little outing earlier in the day. she didn't say anything to me of course, only her new founded arch-nemesis. me and butters just watched awkwardly, resuming our usual position of invested, neutral bystander.
