Be A Pest

Chapter 18

How do I tell him that the reason why I'm sad is because I love him?

That thought kept bothering me for the next few days as I read and did houswork all alone. My parents occasionaly complained to me that Wakko spent plenty of time in the shower, which confused me, even worse, worried me. I desprately tried to figure out what was wrong, but nothing. To make it even more confusing, at the end of each day, I'd find him sitting on the couch, looking like he'd gone trough a chaos.

"You ok?", I'd ask him, and he'd get up and stand in front of me, staring blankly into space. "I'm tired...", he'd say, his whole small figure showing it in every way. Tired? From what, I wondered. There was nothing tiring in taking a shower or sitting on the couch. That was the problem. Whatever I thought was the reason for such behaviour, nothing ever made sense.

Unless...

He was thinking...about...

That was it. If I really wanted to help him, I had to watch those two episodes of the show that had caused me to care for him so much. Horray For North Hollywood, part one and two. I basicaly had to force myself to do it, because of the way they made me feel. And seeing them for the first time was like having a surgery to me. I know it wasn't that bad, but I'd already had enough of seeing Wakko all introverted.

On one of those days, I sat at my desk in my room and watched the two episodes with my headphones on. I had closed the door so Wakko wouldn't be suspicious about what I was doing. Because I, like most of the people watching something, had to comment, if not laugh. Not that I wanted to laugh, of course, it annoyed me. However, since I was on my headphones and couldn't hear anything around me, my commenting and laughing was..a bit too loud.

I found it out the worst way possible, when I felt two hands on my shoulders while watching. I paused the show and turned my head aruund, only to meet his big black terrified eyes and a slightly opened mouth. All in all, a betrayed expression. By me. He thought I'd betrayed him, while I was trying to do exactly the opposite. And before either of us could say a single word, he ran off and shut the door behind him.

I continiued watching the show, not wanting to know how trrified he was. I really needed to make a plan how to help him. Once the two episodes of horrors and utter terror were done, I sighed in relief and went to the living room. What strategy was better than a normal conversation? What more could I do than talk to him and find something out? Nothing safer was coming to my mind. I mean, this was the safest thing to do, right?

When I came there, another surprise waited for me. He was sitting on the couch, curled up, head down...but he was oddly quiet. His silence, combined with the position he sat in, sent an arrow of fear trough me. It was true, utterly true. I had failed in this whole thing. I had hurt him to the point he died inside. He was now thorn apart from all my attempts at showing my love for him. Only a minute had passed, I heard... sniffing.

In a quick pace, I grabbed the first pack of tissues I could find and sat on the couch next to him. I got one out and put it under his nose. As soon as he felt it, Wakko took the tissue and got up,  heading straight for the bathroom. I heard the click of the key turning in the keyhole, and would you belive, that he stayed there for a good. Long. Hour. "Y/n", mom entered, "This has crossed the line already".

I stayed quiet as she sat next to me and I stared at her with a frown on my face. "I'm sorry", I said in the end, "This may be my fault, but it's yours as well". "I know", she sighed, "And I'm sorry too, but-". "Mom, Wakko's got a huge problem and...I wanted to find out what it was", I tried to explain. "So you watched something and were loud to the point he got upset?", mom pressed. "I wasn't even too loud", I argued.

"Well you were loud enough for him to hear", she said. "I didn't know that", I raised my voice a little. "I wonder why you didn't", she was being sarcastic. "Mom, this is seroous", I said, "Leave him be". Mom sighed in frustration, "Fine". And even though I didn't mind him being locked there, I wasn't expecting it to be that long. When he came back, he sat down and I immediately started.

"You're never going to let that go, are you?". He looked at me and shoock his head. I sighed, "Then my efforts were for nothing, huh?". "What?", it sounded like he had only heard me now. "Wakko, I know what you have gone trough, but I wanted to find out how you felt at that moment". His answer was basic, "Been there, done that, had a panick attack". "A what?!", this was already too much for me.

All he did in response was point his finger towards the bathroom.