Bar Red's Redemption ✔

c h a p t e r. 8

"You m-make me blush all the time, Oly." The little goddess rolls her goddamn eyes at him. "That threat won't work on, on me."

"Not those cheeks, babygirl." Bar smirked. "So unless you want me to bend you over my lap and spank you raw later, tell me why you keep looking at me like that."

"Hmph," Clementine pouts, flushing a deep red. "I-I wanted to wait until the, the end of sch-school to give it to y-you."

"Give what to me?" Bar asked, pulling back slightly, his eyes looking between both of Clementine's beautiful, minty ones. "And for the record, I could say something really fucking dirty right now but I'm refraining."

"W-well I'm proud of y-you for, um, being able to control yourself, and, ah..." Then, just because he could and as Clementine spoke, Bar leaned towards her and laid a light kiss on her jaw.

He trailed his nose down her neck before moving it right back where he places an open-mouth kiss under her ear, "Continue."

"W-what?" She breathes out, looking dazed.

"Continue with what you were saying, sweetness, or I might just take another taste."

"That's so, that's so unfair." The little goddess squeaks out. Bar's smirk only widens. "And I-I got you gummy bears."

Bar's smirk drops and an instant wide grin forms on his face, "You did?"

No one has ever bought him his favorite candies before.

Clementine nods and then drags her backpack over to her. Bar watches closely as she unzips the bag. Surprisingly, the little goddess takes out a giant, long bag of gummy bears.

Bar blinks and systematically takes the candies from her.

He stares at them, disbelief coloring his sharp features.

"You got me..." Bar frowns. "Ten pounds of gummy bears?"

"Yes!"

"Why that much?"

"Because I-I didn't know how much you, y-you ate."

"So, you got ten pounds?" Bar asks incredulously, not quite believing that someone would do this for him.

"Have you ever h-heard of the say-saying better safe than s-sorry?" Clementine asks, frowning at an unprepared Bar.

Bar couldn't help but notice that her stuttering was a bit worse than usual but didn't think much of it as his next witty comment popped into his head.

"What a nice saying, babygirl." He says. "My favorite is fuck off, but not to you. My favorite saying for you is fuck me."

"Mhm, sure i-it is," Clementine said then gasped as Bar opened the bag and tore a gummy bear's head off. "You can't, y-you can't eat them h-head first! That's b-brutal!"

"Well, in terms of endearment to those delicious squishy little fuckers, if I'm going to murder them why not soften the blow than prolong their death? Hence head first." Bar smirked. "But, of course, if you don't want me to do that, I won't. I could always just give you head instead."

"No t-thanks," Clementine blushes.

"Hm, okay." Bar smirks and asks, "Is that the only reason you got me ten fucking pounds of gummy bears?"

"No, and b-bec-because y-you got me the loli, the loli— the..." Clementine ceased talking, gulping in a breath of air. "T-t-the loli, loli—"

The little goddess clamped her mouth closed and pressed her palms into her eyes as she took a rattling breath in.

"Sweetheart?" Bar frowned, moving closer. "Are you okay?"

Her stuttering got really fucking bad, he noted. Why, is she alright? Did she get too anxious over something? Did something trigger it?

"I-I c-c—" Clementine tried to force the words out buts she couldn't. Tears pricked her eyes and the sight lashed out at Bar's heart, imprinting the sight into his brain.

The little goddess crying always makes him feel horrible and he always remembers why she cried; what she looked like while doing so.

It haunts him and he hates it.

A beautiful soul like Clementine's shouldn't be so upset.

"Hey, it's okay, babygirl." Bar softly spoke and neared her slowly until he was right next to her, sharing their body heat. "You don't have to say anything if it's too difficult, don't push yourself, sweetness."

Clementine nodded and stared up at the ceiling, looking as if she was willing herself not to cry.

It broke Bar's heart.

"Can I hold your hand?" Bar asked, not knowing how to help her or comfort her but also not wanting to push boundaries— especially when she couldn't speak.

Clementine nods.

Gently, Bar grabbed her tiny hands and held them in his, tattooed thumbs brushing over her scarred knuckles.

"Do you want a hug, babygirl?" He said. Quickly, she nodded again. Bar carefully moved so he had the little goddess bundled on his lap and cradled in his arms, his body wrapped around her's protectively.

Clementine turned in his hold and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his neck and her hands into his hair.

Any other time he would've definitely been turned on by how her limber fingers were tugging on his dark strands and how her soft, voluminous body was coddled to his form— but not right now.

Right now, he was simply concerned and focusing on how he could make her comfortable and happy again.

Which is mostly his goal all the time, mixed with wanting to get her as red as possible.

The little goddess clutched him closer and Bar murmured to her softly, none of the words were important or required a response.

He tried his best to soothe her, not knowing if he was doing a good job.

It felt like minutes before Clementine's labored breathing evened out and she fully relaxed against Bar's body. He followed suit and enjoyed holding her, but his worry stayed intact.

Bar wanted to know why she couldn't talk— or, more importantly, why she stuttered.

The little goddess didn't use to do that.

Sure, she was always a sweet, shy, and nervous little thing but she used to be able to talk back to Bar in full on lectures without stumbling over her words once.

But now? Now Clementine couldn't even get a sentence out without a stutter.

Bar had noticed she slipped up on any words with a Y, H, I, or M more than she did anything else.

Bar wanted to know, desperately, if it had anything to do with the scar running across her beautiful face.

But he didn't ask.

He didn't have a right to know.

Bar had only gotten back into Clementine's life— this time, not as a bully— a little over a week ago and they just had their first date.

Yes, they cared for one another and were growing close terrifyingly quick but Bar knew that there were certain boundaries he couldn't ignore.

This felt like a boundary or a sensitive topic; asking about her scar or stutter.

Bar felt as though if he questioned why or spoke his thoughts aloud that the little goddess would slam down a mental wall, keeping him on the other side.

He didn't want her growing distant. He really, really didn't.

So he didn't say anything about her stutter, he just comforted her— and he would do so until she was ready to move or could talk or anything else.

Bar just held her, the way he wished someone would've held him his entire life.