Pitbabe S2, Chapter 19 pg3

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 19 pg3

   “That’s true too,” Babe says, letting out a long breath. It seems even he didn’t expect he’d be the one to say this first. This might be half my fault for always being the one to beg him until he got used to it. “But honestly, I also wanted to know where you’re at now. Do you still feel anything for me, or have you completely forgotten? When you acted like you didn’t care about me and Willy at all, honestly, it shook me. I thought you really didn’t care anymore.”

   “You really thought that?” 

   “Meaning?”

   “That I didn’t care,” I ask, genuinely wanting to know if our distance and breakup could make Babe believe someone like me could be indifferent to him. “You think I could actually do that?”

   Babe goes quiet. My question might have tapped a small window in his heart, his confusion reflecting clearly in his eyes. I understand that feeling well. That faint, blurry understanding has happened often since we broke up. Without Babe by my side, I feel like I get dumber every day. Things that used to be easy to grasp now feel impossibly hard, so don’t even mention the tough stuff.

   We might be able to live without each other, sure, but there’s no guarantee we’d live as well as we used to.

   “I don’t know,” Babe replies softly. “You really acted like you didn’t care.”

   “Guess I’m a great actor then.”

   “If that’s acting, then yeah, you’re great. I got mad like a dozen times a day.”

   “That was the hardest performance of my life.”

   It wouldn’t be wrong to say I’m tougher than Babe. Even if it doesn’t look that way on the outside, the evidence has grown clearer over the time we’ve spent together. Babe is hot-headed and impulsive, traits that make him seem rough and maybe a bit careless about others’ feelings. But in truth, he’s more sensitive than anyone. His mind is like a collection of stories written on old, worn notes, folded and locked tightly in a box. Few are allowed to read them, and I’m pretty proud to be one of the few entrusted with that honor. I’m confident I’ve seen more of Babe’s sensitive and vulnerable sides than most. That’s why I can say I’m tougher. At the very least, our breakup proved that the tougher one is the crueler one—like me.

   Babe is too kind. He doesn’t do the awful things I do.

   “If it’s that hard, you can stop pretending,” Babe said, sliding his hand over the back of mine. The warmth and longing in his touch were gentle yet overwhelming, fully conveyed. His eyes were both pleading and coaxing, though he didn’t need to do that at all. I don’t like it when Babe has to beg me (except in certain situations, which you can probably guess), because the more he has to ask, the more it means I haven’t given him enough. And that’s what you call a failure. “Just do what you feel. Don’t force it.”

   I want to do that too, but I don’t know if I really have the right to follow my heart like that.

   “But if I don’t hold back, you will have to go through so much more trouble.”

   “So what?” Babe shot back instantly, as if he was running out of patience. “I’ve been through everything in this life, all kinds of trouble. And nothing’s been as hard as when you’re not here.”

   “Babe…”

   One thing I’ve never told him—or if I did, I don’t remember, which probably means I haven’t said it enough.

   “If it’s going to be tiring, let’s be tired together, Charlie.”

   In this world, Babe is the only one who can make me soften.

   At least more than anyone else I’ve ever met.

   “Without me… can Papa survive?”

   I know this might not be the best time, but the way Babe tilted his head to look at me and referred to himself with such an adorable pronoun made me unable to hold back a laugh.

   He’s so cute.

   I want to give Babe everything.

   “What’s so funny?” Of course, my reaction didn’t sit well with him. Babe narrowed his eyes at me, his sweet tone from moments ago turning sharp, ready to pick a fight. “I’m being serious.”

   “My Babe is cute,” I said, still chuckling. “But when someone’s trying to make up, shouldn’t they say, ‘Without Papa, Babe can’t survive’ instead?”

   “It’s the same thing.”

   “Same how? It’s the complete opposite.”

   “In the end, it’s about being together again, isn’t it?”

   That sentence stopped my laughter. The look in Babe’s eyes and the tone of his voice were so serious that I forgot his adorable expression and cute pronoun in an instant. Now, it felt like there was only one thing I had to decide, and if I’m being honest, there’s really only one answer.

   “This house is pretty nice, but does you really like living alone?” Babe said with a serious tone. “Okay, it might be quieter than when we were together, but isn’t it a bit lonely?”

   I was softening because of Babe’s simple words. My heart was drifting back into his hands again, and I couldn’t stop it, even though it’s mine.

   “Can we go back to fighting like before?”

   I was completely defeated. No words could respond anymore, only a kiss… one that I believed explained everything most clearly and fully—my answer, my reasons, and my feelings. I trusted that it reached Babe through that kiss, because otherwise, he wouldn’t have kissed me back so deeply and passionately.

   “Great job, Charlie,” Babe whispered in praise after pulling away from the kiss. “Smart choice.”

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