older ⤷ style .

08

08: no strings attached
pov: stan marsh

"it's time to get up stan, come on." kyle whined, constantly shaking my shoulder impatiently. the sun shined brightly, peaking from the gap in between my curtains. "close it, it's early!" i begged.

"it's 1 pm, i've been waiting."  he sighed, the room was now the neatest i've seen since last, last january. i looked around in awe, my bottles were gone and my CD's were still in their original spot. he made sure not to touch anything he thought i wanted, which i appreciated.

"you didn't have to do this kyle, you really didn't." i smiled. i never found the motivation to clean it, and just like that kyle left my room spotless.

"i know, i wanted to." kyle spoke, placing a few waters on my desk. "you need to stay hydrated though."

my eyes widened, realizing my crumbled papers that once surrounded my desk, were now gone.

all of them.

"hey uhm, where'd you put those old papers?"

kyle turned to me and gazed for a moment, in absolute shock. i hoped he hadn't seen anything. he swallowed a lump in his throat, "uhm, i.. i tossed them in the bin, did you need them?"

i sighed in relief, realizing he hadn't read anything. "no i didn't, just wondering."

kyle left the room without an explanation, i assumed it was the restroom. i wasn't sure when he was leaving, but i didn't mind the company.

after a while, kyle returned with a neural look imprinted on his face. "could i shower?"

"did you bring clothes?" i yawned, kyle shook his head.

i reached for my drawer, desperately avoiding getting off my bed. after tossing a baggy, black tee to kyle, he furrowed his eyebrows at me. "this isn't going to fit."

i rolled my eyes, throwing a pair of black sweatpants at his face. "it's fine, go shower."

kyle clicked his tongue repeatedly as he walked to the bathroom across the hall, leaving my door open. i couldn't help but watch as he walked through my hallway, his curls were so pretty. i don't know if i've ever really actually looked at his hair strongly, it's always just been, well, hair. my eyes immediately wandered to the floor when kyle turned, as if he knew i was staring.

i met his gaze, "there was something on your shirt." i lied. he gave me a sour look, closing the bathroom door without breaking eye contact.

i managed to drag myself out of bed, trudging to the kitchen with exhaustion. i grabbed a bottle of aspirin and filled a glass with tap water, popping four of the pills in my mouth. a loud grunt escaped a mouth that wasn't mine, i turned to find my irritating father's figure who has now thrown himself on the sofa.

"who the hell's showering?" he hicced, popping another beer. i scoffed, chugging the glass of water that was now empty. "answer me, stan!" he threw a green tinted bottle at me, cascading to the hardwood floor and shattering across the kitchen.

"you idiot." i murmured under my breath, reaching for a broom. "what did you say, stanley?"

"it's kyle, i let him come over the other day."

"well let me introduce myself to hiiiiim." a wide grin spread across his face, then a hiccup escaped his throat. my drunken dad continued to ramble about absolute nonsense, the kind of things he was going to forget about the next morning.

"you know kyle already, from grade school." i sighed, watching as my dad had ruined himself completely. after their divorce, i promised myself no matter how much alcohol i'd take, i wouldn't become anything like him. i'd get a job, or something. something i liked.