Pitbabe S2, Chapter 19 pg2

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 19 pg2

   “Didn’t you say you weren’t mad?” Hit where it hurts, and the mighty Pitbabe’s voice softened right away.

   “I’m not mad.”

   “Then why bring it up again?”

   “You call it ‘bringing up’? It’s still fresh, isn’t it?”

   His face fell further, probably dying to argue back but knowing he’d lose no matter what. So, Babe resorted to his charm to win me over instead.

   “Papa…” Babe slid over to rest his head on my lap, speaking in a soft, whiny voice while batting his eyes with maximum charm. Truth is, he didn’t even need to do this—I’m always ready to melt for him. And right now, I’m practically turning into wax under a flame.

   “Yeah?”

   “I didn’t mean anything… with Willy, you know.”

   “Yeah, I know.”

   “Forget all about it, the kiss thing,” the real flirt whined, burying his face in my lap. “Erase that memory right now.”

   “How do I erase it? Want to hit me on the head?”

   “Can I?”

   “Are you serious, Babe?”

   “I just don’t want you to be mad…”

   I was at a loss for words with Babe’s dramatic, defeated attitude. He acted like he genuinely wanted to knock my head to cause amnesia. On one hand, it was kind of cute that he didn’t want me to remember his mistake, but on the other, I couldn’t deny that Babe’s method of “erasing memories” was a bit scary.

   “It’s fine,” I said, slowly rubbing his head, hoping to comfort him and reassure him that it wasn’t a big deal to me. The fact that he came here to explain everything left me with no lingering questions. Especially after our long, heated moment—forget questions, I’d completely erased the feeling I had when I first saw that photo. “I’m not thinking about it anymore. Just you showing up here made me forget everything.”

   “Really?” Babe looked up at me with those innocent kitten eyes he often used when he felt insecure. Of course, I never told him I called this oblivious, pure look his “dumb kitten” face, because he probably wouldn’t appreciate the word “dumb.” “You don’t think I have something going on with that Willy, right?”

   “Not at all,” I replied with a smile. “I know what you like.”

   “You’re saying it’s you, huh?”

   “You can say it’s not if you want.”

   “Wow… Charlie.”

   Seeing Babe so worried about me being mad was an unusual sight. It’s not like he’s ever been careless about my feelings or anything like that—Babe cares more than most people realize, especially when it comes to me. But because he usually hides his fears rather than showing them so openly like this, it made me realize how much our breakup shook the fake toughness in his heart.

   “I’m not saying anything.”

   “Then don’t act like you’re about to get mad.”

   “I haven’t even__ I haven’t even done anything yet,” I said, pressing my palm against Babe’s cheek, my thumb brushing his soft lower lip absentmindedly. He didn’t complain and even seemed to enjoy it, lightly nibbling my finger like a cat batting at a toy. “Don’t overthink things about me so much.”

   “I just don’t like it when you’re mad.”

   “And you think I like it when you’re mad?”

   “It’s not the same,” Babe argued firmly. “I get mad all the time—it’s normal. But you? You rarely get mad, so when you do, it’s a big deal.”

   “You realize you get mad all the time?”

   “You’re always drilling it into my head. I’d be crazy not to know,” I laughed, finding it amusing that Babe so easily admitted his flaw. Compared to when we first met, the old Babe would never have let me call him out like this. He’d have argued until he was blue in the face, even though he knew full well I was right. “But seriously, I don’t want you to be mad at me. We can bicker like we always do, but I don’t want you so mad that we stop talking.”

   “Why does it sound like you’re asking to get back together?”

   “And if I said I was… what would you say?”

   This is a hard situation to explain. If you ask how shocked I was by those words just now, I’d have to be honest and say I was so stunned I forgot to breathe. But if you ask if it was unexpected, I’d say no, not at all. Since we broke up, I’ve thought every night before bed that maybe tomorrow Babe and I could reconcile. Of course, in my current logic, it’s not a good idea, but deep down, I still believe it’s possible. The most surprising thing, though, is that I always thought I’d be the one to beg for reconciliation first.

   Not because Babe is that stubborn, but because I thought I’d be the one who couldn’t hold out longer.

   “Are you messing with me?” I can’t help but be suspicious. “If you are, I’m telling you, it’s not funny. I’ll actually get mad.”

   “Would I joke about something like this?” Babe slowly sits up. He turns to face me, meeting my eyes openly. Now we’re just two people, bare on the bed, with only a blanket covering our lower halves, which doesn’t feel quite right for a serious talk like this. “I thought you’d figure it out when I showed up at your place this late.”

   “I thought you just didn’t want me to misunderstand you.”

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