I Moved to Springfield- A Sideshow Bob Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Drunken words = Sober thoughts

"(Y/n)! W-why are you angry at me? I... I... I thought we were friends! Y-you are so... M-mean!" Bob slurs.

"You know what Bob? Shut the fuck up! We are not friends and we will never EVER be friends!"

"What...? W-why?" His eyes grew big and sad. I could feel a weakness in my heart. (He is so cute... NO! Stop! He's a killer! Just stop. Do not fall for him!)

"Because... Because...!" My feelings, all of them, erupted in this moment and I start crying. "BOB, HOW COULD YOU?!"

He comes over on his hands and knees, slowly and clumsily, and hugs me as I cry. I try to resist the hug and slap him away, but I can't. My arms only have the energy to cover my wet eyes.

"Get off of me! You... You... UGH!"

"But you're crying... And, I hate s-seeing you cry."

(No... No, this can't be right. How can he be a... a...?)

"Shut up! You're a killer, Bob. You're a killer and I can't be friends with such a person." I pulls away and my body is now cold.

"W-what? No, I'm not-"

"Don't lie!"

"Quiet (y-y/n)! You don't get it! You don't understand me!"

I stand up and look down at him as he sits up.

"What the hell don't I understand?!"

"I never killed anyone! I just TRIED to!"

"What's the difference!"

(Right... I forgot, Marge said his murders were only attempted. I guess I was a bit wrong...)

"No one died! That's the difference!"

"You still tried! You still tried to kill people... You remember Bart? Bart Simpson! He's a little boy and my friend and you tried to kill him!"

"Shut up! Just... shut... UP!" He glares at me and stands up. He walks up to me, his hands in fist! "D-d-don't mention his name!... Please..."

(Please? Why would he...?)

"I don't ever want to hear his name! In those two words are terrible memories! Please! Please stop!" He falls to his knees and starts to cry. I am in complete shock. He's bawling right in front of me and I don't know why exactly. Maybe it's because he's drunk...

I bend down and look at him. We are both on the ground now.

"I don't want to kill! Don't you get it! I hated how I wanted to kill people. I hated how my brain was! But the screams were too strong and too loud! Kill, kill, revenge, revenge! Everyday and night and I hated it!"

(... I... Oh my god...)

"I... I can't imagine how... Horrible that must have been like..."

He grabs my shoulders and pulls me into a hug.

"But I'm better now! I promise! I don't want to kill anymore! P-please believe me. I h-haven't had a f-friend ever since I was released."

"Um... I..."

"And I can't lose you... I really like you (y/n)."

I am losing the ability to breathe.

"Bob... Bob! I... Can't breathe!" He squeezes me a little tighter.

"Promise you won't leave me! Promise me!"

"Okay, okay, I promise! I promise!... Let go of me! Please."

I gasp as he finally release his death grip. Now I have time to think. Okay... I don't understand the mind of a killer... But the way he described it... It sounds like a horrible thing to go through. He never killed anyone, and he was released from prison. He SAYS that he's better... And... he's been nice to me ever since I got here...

Besides, if I look into my heart and ask it what it thinks, I realize that I like him too much. He's so interesting and smart. I want to get to know him better. (Face it (y/n), he's got me trapped.)

"Bob... Why are you drunk?" I ask, concerned.

"Huh? Oh that...? I don't know! I just t-thought that if the Simpsons told y-you about me... Then you w-would hate me. So I drank... A bunch!" He starts to laugh, tears still stained on his cheeks.

"Well... we'll discuss whether or not I hate you when you're NOT drunk, okay?"

He hugs me, more gently this time. I don't realize it immediately, but I hug him back automatically. I'm ready to let go, but he continues to hug me.

"Um, you can let go of me now Bob."

"Do you like me (y/n)?"

(Wait, what? Why is he asking me this now?)

"I mean, you haven't let go of me for a while. Kind of suspicious don't you think?" He squeezes me a bit tighter and laughs,

"Um... I... Bob, I don't have time for this."

"You didn't answer my question."

(Well... He's drunk... He won't remember any of this, and even if he does, I'll just lie if I have to)

"Well... Um... *sigh* I guess I do... Just a bit."

"You do? Oh good, because I like you too."

(Gasp! He... Did he? No, he's just drunk, he doesn't know what he's saying... Then again, "Drunken words are sober feelings")

"You... Do?" He pulls away from the hug and looks at me with a smiles. He puts his arms on my shoulders, comes up closer to me and presses his lips against mine. I feel my heart and stomach go into chaos. I can't help closing my eyes and kissing him back. It last for 10 seconds before he pulls away.

"Yes... I do."

I feel him go limp and fall to the floor, tired from all the wine he drank.

***

What do you guys think? Comment and vote please *^^*

P.s. TO ALL MY READERS. IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THIS, READER SLAPPED BOB IN ANGER. THIS WAS AND IS NEVER OKAY. I AM SORRY FOR DEPICTING DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AS AN OKAY THING. WOMEN SLAPPING ME IS NOT FUNNY OR OKAY, IT IS WRONG. ALL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IS UNACCEPTABLE. THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU ALL.