Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I just own this story.
A/N: This was written at school, so forgive the super shortness. Enjoy. :)
I suppose it was because I always wore my gloves that when I couldn't find them, the cold left my hands raw. They itched and hurt, and my knuckles were bloody, caked up bunches of white flesh. I didn't know how much harm the cold could cause.
"What's the matter, Kenny?" Butters asked hesitantly. We were the only ones at the bus stop. Butters is usually the first one there, so I try to get there early to spend time alone with him. Of course, this usually involves the two of us standing around awkwardly with nothing to say. Butters must have noticed me craddling my hands.
"(Huh? Oh, nothing,)" I said. No need to ask for someone else's concern. It always bothered me when people complained about their problems, so I try my best not to. Of course, if Butters were to ever tell me his problems, I would be happy to know he was open with me.
"O-oh," he said, sounding a bit depressed by my distant words. Not that I wanted to be distant with Butters. If anything, I wanted to get closer to him. That was when I decided, since I wanted him to open up to me, maybe he wanted me to open up to him, too.
I decided it would be ok to complain to Butters. "(It's the cold,)" I said stupidly. "(It hurts my hands.)" I showed him my cold damaged skin, feeling like a total whimp.
"Yeowch," he said, wincing. "Does it hurt?"
"(Yeah,)" I said, still feeling whimpy, but at the same time, it was nice to know Butters cared. What startled me was when I felt his hands on mine; lifting them up to his eye level. He was warm. My eyes shot wide when he placed a light kiss on my right hand, then my left. "Is that better?" Butters asked, still holding my hands.
I blushed maddly in my parka as I brought my hands to my drawstrings and tightened my hood. "(Yeah...)" It was a good thing I had my hood up, because I know I had the dumbest looking grin on my face. "(Ya' know...)"
Butters looked back over at me, smiling obliviously. "Yeah?" He asked.
I blushed harder at what I was about to say. "(My lips are chapped, too...)"