▪️Predictions ▪️Style

🔻Skittles🔻

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park
Title: Skittles
Words: 2683

He could feel the adrenalin pump throughout his body the moment the bell rang. In the small amount of time it took to exit the classroom, he had managed to stumble twice; once in the simple process of standing from his desk, and the other in the doorway, which sent him sliding across the waxed floor and straight into the wall. Stan was quick to leave today, which was the reason for his haste. He wanted to catch the living angel before he disappeared somewhere in the crowd of the cafeteria.

Now his head spun with stars as he lay where he had fallen and smacked his head on the hard, cold tile of the Sixth grade corridor. He was having a hard time deciding which was worse, the kids that laughed or the fact that Stan had witnessed everything from the slip to the smack.

"Butters?"

He opened his eyes to see Stan and Kyle leaning over him. Their concern mirrored each other, a habit of theirs he found particularly irritating. They had adopted each others facial expressions and probably never even noticed.

"Are you okay?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, that looked like a hard spill." Stan added.

For once in his life, he wished the two of them were bigger assholes that would have kept walking right on by like everyone else had. Instead, Stan reached out his gloveless hand and helped him up. Butters accepted it, and frowned once he was standing.

"Well?" He asked.

"Well, what?" Stan questioned.

Butter's looked up, realizing he was shorter then the both of them by at least an inch. "Aren't you guys gonna laugh at me and- and call me a Melvin?"

Stan and Kyle's eyes locked with each other for a moment before focusing on him again.

"We're not assholes, Butters. You could have been seriously hurt." Stan pointed out.

Kyle nodded "We wont laugh and call you a Melvin until later, when we know you're alright."

"Yeah." Stan agreed.

Butters looked back down and rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. "Oh, okay." Just his luck. He had wanted Stan's attention, but not by making a joke of himself. All he wanted was for them to stop looking at him now. Instead, to his further humiliation, Cartman and Kenny emerged from the classroom to join them.

"What's going on?" Kenny asked the moment he spotted Butters, as if no one would talk to him unless something happened.

"Butter's hit his head." Stan supplied.

Cartman snorted. "That was stupid. What did you do that for?"

"Not on purpose, you dumb shit!" Kyle snapped.

The offended stared him down blankly. "Sometimes I have dreams about you, Kyle. And in them, dark things happen to you. Things that make me smile."

"Okay, cut the crap. Both of you." Stan intervened. "Do you need help to the nurse, Butters?"

"Uh, no. I'm fine." He answered, apprehensively clanking his knuckles together. If it had been just Stan, he would have taken up the offer even though he really didn't need to go. The fall had looked and sounded worse than it really was. In fact, Stan looked more in need of a nurse than himself, but that was to be expected of someone who had been sick for little over two weeks.

"Good," Kyle stated. "Now lets go before fat ass gets so hungry he eats one of us."

"Ha ha ha," Cartman mocked. "I guess that holds a double-meaning coming from you, doesn't it, Kyle?"