"The problem with fairy tales isn't that they don't exist. It's that they do exist, but only for some people."
—Lauren Oliver

chapter 13

The entire ride to the ice cream shop was full of Clementine rattling off her favorite flavors in a shakier than normal voice, Bar knew that her stuttering got worse with any raised emotion, and her contemplating what she was going to get.

Bar loved hearing her talk, it was comforting. Besides, the little goddess had a beautiful voice.

It wasn't long before Bar and Clementine were out of the shop and sitting in the school's parking lot, perched next to his car and outside of the school's cafeteria with cups of ice cream in their hands and poking fun at each other by playing confessions.

Confessions is a game where whatever the person asked, the other had to answer truthfully without lying and they only had three passes— and the other couldn't retaliate against the other's answer but could ask a follow-up question.

"Stupidest t-thing you ever did by accident, go," Clementine said, popping her cookies and cream flavored ice cream covered spoon into her mouth.

She got four giant scopes while Bar only got two, and he warned her not to eat that much too fast but the little goddess was having a hard time listening.

Bar had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't feel good in a little while and that she wouldn't be hungry for lunch.

Two things he didn't like.

"Being born." Bar said, without missing a beat. He took a bite of his own strawberry and vanilla ice cream and finished it. "Most embarrassing memory?"

"I fell down a, a flight of stairs in front of m-my homeroom teacher and then, then got my period in the middle of h-her class without noticing."

"Ouch." Bar winced, remembering how utterly mortified Law's last ex was when she bleed through her pants. "If that happens again, just find me, okay? I always have an extra jacket in my locker that you could wrap around your waist and this small bag thingy with pads and tampons in it that I keep in my bag."

"What?" Clementine looked thoroughly confused. "Why do y-you have those with you?"

"My sister," Bar shrugged. "She's really shy about those girly things since she started so early and the last time she got her period when we were out somewhere and didn't have anything, we had to go into the store to buy some and she was so embarrassed. I just want to be prepared."

"You, sir," Clementine said, looking up at Bar in an expression he couldn't understand. "Are literally t-the best big brother ever."

"Uh." Bar could feel the heat creeping up his neck and he ducked his head. "Thanks?"

"Welcome, Mr. Rosey c-cheeks." Clementine giggled, poking his dimple making Bar scowl. "Cute date idea?"

Seeing a way to get back at the little goddess, Bar smirks.

"I tie you up and slowly... deeply... and sensually force orgasms out of you, till your soul leaves your body and you lose count."

Clementine's spoon was hanging lip in her mouth, her minty eyes widened and cheeks a dusty red that just allowed her freckles to show.

That was until Bar winked and she gave him the stink eye.

"I know you're trying to show me that I'm being a meanie by making you blush," Bar said. "But I also know you like me being a meanie and you look so fucking cute that that expression cancels itself out."

Clementine sticks her tongue out.

He raised his eyebrows and asks, "It looks like you're having an attitude with me, babygirl. Want to try that again?"

Smirking when Clementine flushes— she always seems to have red cheeks around him— and shakes her head, Bar continues with the game.

"Butterflies or lollipops?"

"Butterflies." Clementine smiled.

"Why?"

"I can, I can a-always go to the store to get a loli. I can't always just walk out— walk outside and see a-a butterfly."

"Fair point," Bar nodded.

"What's your favorite childhood memory?" Clementine asks as she eats the last of her ice cream, resting her head in his shoulder and sighing as if the weight of the world was finally sliding off her thoughts.

Perhaps it was.

Perhaps she has built up a lifetime of stress and overthinking that she carries around with her wherever she does.

Maybe Bar isn't the only one.

"Not being exhausted twenty-four seven." His reply, although his tone was more than joking, makes Clementine pause.

"Yeah." Her voice was wistful, minty eyes sorrowful and tormented. "That was nice."

Bar wondered if she, just like him, has lived a life full of pain.

Living through his bullying and the hell and stress that high school brings along with other kids harassing her—not to mention whatever gave her the scar and caused the stutter, had to cause a lot of stress and hurt.

The little goddess had a hard life.

That much Bar knew.

"Favorite... Hm, favorite position." Bar's comment successfully pulled Clementine out of her thoughts and caused the little goddess to narrow her eyes at him.

"Of what?" She, quite warily, asked. The sadness that was in her eyes a moment ago lost.

"Yoga." The brute had a wicked smile pulling at his lips.

"Right," Clementine rolled her eyes. "Because y-yoga is what goes through your mind wh-when someone says posit-position."

"Of course, it is. What kind of scoundrel do you take me for?"

"The p-perverted kind." The little goddess cheekily retorts.

"Again with the attitude, sweetness." Bar tsks. "Why are you being sour, hm?"

Without warning, the playfulness in Clementine's expression vanishes and a self-conscious frown tugs at her lips.

Bar straightens, not expecting that switch in her body language and not knowing what's wrong.

"Because." Clementine crossed her arms. "You won't t-touch me and I don't know why. Do you, do y-you not want to?"

Bar wanted to gently hold the little goddess and ask: Do you not realize how deep you have crawled inside my mind? My heart? Did you know I dreamt about you every night this week and each time I woke up with an empty bed? Do you understand how desperate I am? Do you understand? Please tell me you do. I can't be the only one falling into this. Please. Are you falling to?

Instead, he just said, "You're short, y'know that?"

"I-I am not short, you grumpy g-giant." Clementine glared at him. "A-answer the question."

Bar sighed, "I want to touch you— not as dirty as it sounds, I swear. Innocent touches, nothing more."

"Then why aren't you?" Clementine sounds disappointed and her eyes were cast down as if she did something wrong. "I-I noticed you weren't touching me as, as much as usual and then a-at butterfly land you pulled away from m-me."

"Your brother mentioned that you really don't like touching other people." Bar said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And... I'm not a touchy person either—" Abuse does that to a person. "— but with you I am and I didn't know what you're comfortable with. And I didn't want to make you feel like you had to touch me because I want to touch you, so I... I just tried to avoid it. The last thing I want to do is make you feel unsafe or uncomfortable around me, babygirl."

Bar bullied her— therefore he made her scared of him and what he would do.

In his mind, that was the reality of the situation and he didn't want to ever be the cause of her fear again.

"I'm c-comfortable with you touching me, Oly," Clementine said, wrapping her arms around the brute's waist as if solidifying her words. "If I, I had a problem with s-someone touching me, I'd tell t-them."

"So," He spoke, just to be sure. "I can touch you?"

"Yes."

"Hold your hand, whenever I want?" He tested.

"Y-yes."

"And wrap you in my arms? Kiss your forehead? And cheeks? And—"

"Oly," Clementine looks like she was holding back laughter and Bar stopped talking and stared at her beautiful, scarred face. "I-I said you could touch me a-already."

There can never be too much confirmation or asking when it comes to how comfortable someone is being touched; Bar knew that.

Consent was a must and something you couldn't just ask once about and shrug off later.

"Just double-checking, baby," Bar, finding relief in doing so, tugged the little goddess closer by her waist and buried his face into her neck, breathing in her ambrosiac scent.

"Well, t-then double-check verbally instead of backing away next, next time." Clementine chided. "I missed h-hugging you."

"Mhm, okay." Bar hummed out and just tightened his hold on her, enjoying the way she was pressed against him as he leaned against the smooth surface of his car.

Clementine ran her fingers through his hair and Bar thought he could fall asleep right there.

Or he could've until the shrill bell echoed from the building and disrupted the mood.

"Fuck high school." Bar groaned out as Clementine pulled back. "Let's just go back to my apartment and cuddle all goddamn day."

"A-as nice as that sounds," Clementine said. "We have a text in history t-that we can't miss."

"History can suck my—"

"Oly!" The little goddess sharply cut Bar off, pointing to their school bags. "Don't be d-dirty and please hand m-me my bag."

"I'm not being dirty." Bar gruffed out. "History sucks balls. Hard. It's horrible. Just not as bad as math."

"Ew." Clementine scrunched her node up. "Math."

"Says you, Ms. Honor roll." Bar nudged her shoulder slightly before grabbing their bags from the back of his car and slinging them over his shoulder.

"Just because, just because I-I get As doesn't mean I enjoy m-math." The little goddess informed, giggling when Bar intertwines their fingers and tugs her towards the cafeterias doors.

"Okay, well, we all can't be perfect and I can't tell you how many fucking times I've thrown my trig book at a wall." Bar opened the door for her and walked behind Clementine closely, keeping their hands together and bodies close. "It's all so fucking boring and easy. I don't know why they give us so much time to do the work."

"Y-you say that like you do your work." Clementine mutters, obviously not expecting Bar to hear her over the noise of the quickly crowding room.

"I do my shitty ass work," Bar says, eyeing their table where all their friend— and the fucking brunette— was sitting. "I just don't turn it in."

The little goddess frowns, "Why not?"

"Because it makes the teachers too damn smug," Bar says. "They think they were finally able to tell me what to do, so I just stopped."

"That's..."

"Petty, I know." Bar said, fully aware of how stupid he was for it and how he practically lived his life in spite. "Why is the fucker at our table?"

Clementine turns when they're about five feet away and shrugs, "I don't know. H-he has this lunch hour but, but usually, he sits with his friends. Maybe he's just che-checking on me?"

"Maybe." Bar gruffs out, stopping at the table.

Gus was between Law and Fen, and she had Eli to her left and to Eli's left was Conway.

The fucker had taken Clementine's seat and left only Bar's available.

Seeing the pair, the brunette smugly grins over at the little goddess, "Only one seat left, Clems, guess you'll have to sit on my lap."

It's like he wants to die a slow and excruciating death.

Before Bar could enact his very violent thoughts and leave the other male's face unrecognizable and bloody, Clementine spoke up.

"N-no thanks, Conny." She awkwardly smiles. "I'll sit with Oly."

Bar glances around the table, noticing their still talking friends who weren't paying attention, before focusing on what she had said.

Bar nods and plops down their bags before sitting in his spot— which was way too close to the fucker for comfort. He pushed his chair a little ways away from the table and leaned back slightly, getting relaxed.

Clementine silently comes over to Bar and gets herself nestled on his lap with his arms wrapped around her and looking adorable.

Bar had never been so thankful before that their school had basically no rules against PDA and none of the staff members had a problem with it unless a couple was practically dry humping each other in the halls— which was a nasty as hell thing to see.

Conway, on the other hand, was frowning and looked like he hated that fact.

"Why? Just why, Clems?" Conway grumbled, looking unhappy.

Fen, hearing the brunette's tone, stops mid-sentence to Gus and turns with a half-glare, "What are complaining about, Conway, and why the hell are you bringing the baby orange into it?"

"She's on him and not me." The fucker said and Bar had to focus to keep his grip on Clementine from tightening.

One of these days, Bar seethed to himself, I am going to rearrange that fuckers face with my fists and I'm going to enjoy it.

Clementine was his, it was obvious.

She chose him over Conway, she wanted Bar to touch her not him, she wanted the beast-boy everyone scared of not a future pushover at some big company.

Why couldn't Conway understand that?

"Oly," Clementine rested her head on his shoulder, pulling all his attention away. "My stomach h-hurts."

Bar grew frustrated with himself, knowing he should've warned her more about the possibilities of her not feeling well after eating so much at once.

He should've known better.

"I'm sorry, Babygirl." Bar instantly takes to gently rubbing her tummy, looking down at her frowning, minty eyes. "Next time, don't eat so much, alright?"

"But, i-it's ice cream."

"It's called self-control and I think you have none when it comes to sweets." Bar grumbled softly. "It's not healthy."

"But—"

"No, buts." Bar said. "You can't eat that much sugar unless you have something nutritious first, okay? I don't need you getting a bellyache, babygirl."

"Okay." Clementine agreed.

When the little goddess went back to playing with the hemline of his shirt and softly humming, Bar watched her for a moment before turning back to the rest of the table's occupants, his hands still massaging her stomach.

Eli and Law were in an intense game of chess, Gus was flirting and failing at asking Fen out, and Conway was frowning at him.

"How did a fucker like you meet my girl anyway?" Bar asks, having no shame in calling her his so blatantly.

The little goddess sends him a reprimanding look for calling Conway a name before cuddling further into him from her spot on his lap, getting comfortable.

Conway smirked and opened his mouth to speak but Clementine was quick to react.

"N-no," The little goddess mumbled quietly.

Bar frowned. Why can't the bastard say it? Did they meet at a damn party or something? Wait, does she even go to parties? Did they like one another, did they go on a date? Did—

"Sorry, Clems," Conway winked at her and Bar felt the reigns he had on his anger slip just a little bit. Fucking prick shouldn't even be looking at what was the brute's. "I'm gonna tell the beast."

"H-he's not a beast." Clementine, surprising, glared at Conway and the guy raised his hands in surrender before continuing with the story.

"Being a shortass, Clems couldn't reach a book at this one place we were both at— never been back to it— and asked for my help. And who was I to say no to a pretty girl? So I got the book off the shelf and she just pushed me into the nonfiction section, knocking over a bunch of shelves, making us both get banned!"

"No!" Clementine squeaks, sitting up on Bar's lap making the brute wrap his arms around her tighter so she didn't fall.

"Careful, sweetheart." Bar warned.

"Sorry, Oly." She kissed his cheek before correcting the brunette, "Y-you handed m-me the, the book a-and, and—" The little goddess took a deep breath in and Bar rubbed her back soothingly. The whole day she's been fighting off a stuttering fit, since what happened in the morning, and it was finally catching up to her. "And y-you laughed! Then you c-called, you called me a nerd and said m-my— said m-my book choice was s-stupid. I-I tripped a-a-and accidentally shoved you! Then we g-got banned."

"Damn," Conway leaned back in his seat. "All that and you still have a bad taste in books."

"Oly?" Clementine turns to face Bar and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Can you do to him what y-you did to, to Mrs. Rose?"

Ah, he was rude to the secretary and now he has permission to be mean to the fucker, too.

Lovely.

Smirking, Bar glares right at Conway and raises both of his middle fingers to the brunette, "Fuck a cactus."

"Now that," Conway gives the little goddess a nasty look. "Is rude."

"Don't look at her like that unless you want your fucking—"

"Oly," Clementine pressed a fluttering kiss against Bar's jaw and instantly his mouth slams shut. "Stop being so pro-protective."

"Right," Gus snorted, butting into the conversation. "Because that's possible. Bar's like a giant, overprotective cat. You'd sooner be able to declaw him than make him worry less, Potato Queen."

"A-aw!" Clementine squished Bar's cheeks together and he almost flinched at the fast movement but refrained. "You're a kitty!"

Thought the words came out muffled, Bar said, "Well, this kitty bites—" He snapped his jaws together. "—in all the right places."

"Naughty kitty." She bops him on his nose and Bar blinked, taken aback by the action.

Gus and Conway laugh while Fen snickers, all of them joining Clementine as she giggles at Bar's reaction.

"Bitches, that's what you all are— every single last one of you but Clementine." Bar grumbled out, earning the middle finger from Fen and the fucker and a wink from Gus as his best friend mouthed 'but I'm your bitch'.

Bar chose to ignore the goof, knowing if he didn't he'd just be starting an argument.

"And what am, what am I-I?" The little goddess asks, tilting her head.

"You're mine." Bar bounced her on his lap slightly, earning a high pitched squeal followed by a short round of laughter.

God, he'll never be tired of hearing her laugh.

He'll never get tired of her.

Bar was sure of that— he could feel it in his bones that he'll always want her to be there; to be next to him and in his life.

He just hoped she'd want to, too.