After playing a few more rounds of Wood Block, Misha realized that it was pretty hard to pit Gabriel in this kind of game. Despite doing his best, he only managed to make things difficult for himself, and the teenager thus easily won every round, leaving everyone in the dust.
Although Misha had decided to take a step back and learn more about Gabriel instead of harboring hatred day and night, bad habits were hard to break; he still wanted to crush him in board games. First off, he had to get revenge for his poor cheeks, which the teenager had stretched to their utmost limits earlier, and secondly, his helpless face was very much to his liking.
However, things didn't go the way Misha had planned, and after his umpteenth loss, his patience was about to run out.
Eventually, he told himself that if he wanted to get revenge, he should make a man out of himself and directly pinch Gabriel's cheeks. Doing it in a roundabout way wasn't his style, anyway.
The idea was tempting, very tempting, so why resist it? Gabriel's cheeks didn't have any baby fat left, but they still looked tender in Misha's eyes, making his fingers feel itchy. Before long, he made up his mind, deciding to abandon all fairness and politeness.
But just when he was about to pounce on his prey and pinch his cheeks like a devilish auntie, the doorbell rang, and Misha stopped dead in his tracks, almost falling forward and kissing the floor.
"Saved by the bell," he snorted to himself, his mouth distorted into a pout.
Not paying any heed to the strange gazes cast at him, Misha crawled up before running off to the door, flinging it wide open. This time, the persons standing on the doorstep were Vanessa and an elderly man, whose lips stretched into a smile when their eyes met.
"Sorry, we are a bit late because we couldn't find the place. I guess you are Misha, right?" The boy barely had the time to nod before the old man went on, "Did you know? My granddaughter often talks about you. She said you're like a knight in shining armor."
"Granddad!" the girl cried out with flushed cheeks, nudging his waist with her elbow. "Don't spout nonsense!"
"What? It's true," the man chuckled as he ruffled his granddaughter's hair. "I just wanted to thank him for taking care of you in school. I know how much you love causing trouble."
"I don't cause trouble! Stop lying!"
Taken aback, Misha watched the two bicker for a moment, then he burst out laughing, interrupting them. He winked, "Taking care of your friends is a normal thing to do. There's no need to thank me."
The grandfather smiled wider in response and watched him grab his granddaughter's wrist to drag her inside, stifling a chuckle. Then, he made sure everything was ok with Mrs. Brown before leaving.
Soon afterward, Dereck also arrived. He casually greeted his friend's parents before going to the living room, where the teenagers and the children were playing. But once Dereck saw the harmonious scene, he seemed to freeze. He guiltily glanced at Gabriel, feeling a little uncomfortable in his presence.
Of course, it wasn't the first time he had seen Masha's boyfriend, but previously, he helped Misha with his nasty pranks whenever they met each other. How many times did he put chewing gum in the teenager's shoes or discreetly pour salt in his glass of water? The two children had done so many bad things that Dereck couldn't even enumerate them all.
However, his best friend wasn't interested in turning the teenage boy's life into a living hell anymore, and as such, Dereck wasn't sure how he should behave in his presence now. Was he supposed to say sorry and brush it off? Or act as if nothing had ever happened? After all, even he found that they had gone a little too far with one or two of their pranks, yet Gabriel didn't seem to hold it against them, laughing and smiling by Misha's side.
Dereck couldn't help but secretly look up to him, thinking that this guy was like a good-tempered saint, if not an angel. He was well aware that anyone else would have long scolded them to death for what they had done, but Gabriel didn't, and it didn't seem like he would ever.
"What are you doing standing there like a fool? Come here and team up with me," Misha ordered around, his cheerful voice resounding throughout the living room as he rudely pointed at Gabriel. "That guy is a bad adult who doesn't even know how to let me win!"
"I'm not an adult," said "bad man" corrected, a gentle smile still lingering on his lips.
"You're a bad teenager then."
The boy's overall appearance and tone of voice gave rise to a righteous feeling in those who saw him or heard him, as if not letting him win was indeed wrong on Gabriel's part. It was a disturbing feeling.
Whatever. Today was Misha's birthday, so everything that he said was bound to be right, even if it wasn't.
"If he lets you win, you will say that he doesn't take you seriously. You can be quite unreasonable sometimes, you know?" Dereck sighed as he walked up to the group, sitting between Tristan and Vanessa.
"And what's wrong with that? On your birthday, you can be as unreasonable as you wish. That's common knowledge."
Dereck didn't dare to respond to his friend's rubbish, inwardly thinking that Misha was being unreasonable every day of the year, not only on his birthday. But he decided to erase that thought from his mind for his own good and stay silent.
A mere peasant should never contradict the princess, wasn't it?
As the group prepared to resume the game, they heard Tristan ask in a confused voice, "Why are we playing with him?"
"Why why?" Misha asked back with a raised eyebrow.
"You don't know?" the boy replied, his big, round eyes looking at him with what seemed to be disbelief. "You shouldn't play with fat people and stay away from them."
These words spoken in a sweet, innocent voice left everyone dumbstruck, and Misha couldn't help but wonder whether or not he just had an auditory hallucination. And when he realized that it wasn't the case, he felt his face turn red in anger.
Gabriel almost instantly put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. The teenager glanced at him in warning, and Misha reluctantly swallowed back the curses he was about to yell. He tightly pursed his lips as he glared at Gabriel, a wronged expression plastered on his doll-like face.
'Why do I have to restrain my temper when that shitty kid is insulting my friend?! Gosh, that doesn't make any sense!' Misha inwardly screamed while his eyes were shooting daggers at the boy. He wanted to cut him to pieces now!
"Why are you saying this?" Gabriel gently asked after making sure Misha wouldn't lose it and beat up his little brother.
Tristan seemed puzzled by the question, but he eventually explained, "Mom said I shouldn't play with fat people. She said they are good-for-nothing worse than bloodsuckers, and—"
"What the hell is wrong with your mother's brain?! A person's weight has nothing to do with being good-for-nothing or not!" Misha cried out, unable to restrain himself anymore. "And to start with, Dereck is not even fat! He's chubby! And know what? He won't stay chubby all his life! Wait a few years, and that guy is going to transform into—"
Misha's tirade abruptly stopped, and his face paled. Just now, even he could tell that he seemed to have said something he shouldn't have. But before panic could get the better of him, his childhood friend's voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"I'm going to transform into what?" Dereck curiously asked, the expression on his face as calm as ever.
Over time, he had gotten used to people calling him fat, and it didn't bother him that much, especially when it came from a small child whose eyes got teary after being scolded. It made his heart ache. At any rate, the adults' judging eyes were often a lot more hurtful than this little kid's words. So, Dereck wouldn't get sad or mad over this matter; he was a lot more interested in what his friend had to say.
"A-a-a superman!" Misha stuttered, almost biting his tongue.
He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, and when he realized what had escaped from his mouth, he felt so embarrassed that he wanted to crawl into a hole.
"I don't want to be Superman, though. I want to be Batman!" the chubby boy replied with sparkling eyes.
"…"
Well, Batman was a more realistic goal than Superman. He was human, for starters.
_____________
Mini theater
MC: Gabriel, come here for a second!
ML: Before that, can I know what you're planning to do with those pliers in your hands?
MC: Nothing much. I just want to pinch your cheeks a little. I promise it won't hurt! (◍•ᴗ•◍)
ML: …
__________________________
Chapter revised on 2022-05-20
Edited by Clozed! ♥
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