"Stop staring mongrel," the tiny blond said to the grinning delinquent.
"What's wrong with you this time?" he asked, raising both his eyebrows.
"Hnn."
He smiled quietly as he sat beside his girl. Of course, he knew she'll let him discover what she's freaking about this time; he knew her very well that a confession would sure go through a long process of squeezing her to death for her to tell the truth. But, yeah, he knew her well enough to manipulate such cute brat.
"Did you have a fight with your volleyball team captain again?"
No response.
"She said your boobs are small?" he inquired.
"Okay, she said you don't have the height?"
"I'm not tiny."
A curve line immediately curved into his lips. Gotcha.
"You're smaller compared to her," he teased.
"She's ugly,” she fired back.
"You're small," he continued teasing.
"She's fat," she rebutted.
"You're small."
"She's... she's...
..
..
..
"I hate you," she said before breaking into tears.
He sighed. She's still the girl who has a lot of insecurities. She got all she wanted in life: money, fame, average IQ, beauty and unusual strength. But even with the list of such capabilities, she's still lonely. But of course, it was his main objective not to let her remain as such.
"Sshhh..." he comforted, hugging the tiny creature who fitted perfectly on his arms like she was made specifically for him.
"I'm short," she muttered in between sobbing.
"You're beautiful."
"I'm short."
"You're strong."
"I'm short."
"You're brilliant."
"I'm short."
"You're a real friend."
"I'm short."
"You're already perfect for me."
"I'm short."
"And I love you for that."
She pouted. "I'm still –“
He cut whatever she’ll be saying with his kisses.
"Yeah, I'm short."
***
Mary sighed and closed the notebook where her stories and poems were written. No matter how many times she read that story, she couldn’t help but smile and wonder of what could have been if she had lived a normal life.
She then shook her head to disregard these ideas. There are just decisions one can’t undo.
