𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? ||𝐛𝐨𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫||

Chapter 11

Bobs pov:

After you left:

A low crunching sound could be heard in the woods, sounding awfully like snapping of twigs or branching as a small boy sat in a small patch of grass. His hands stained with blood.

Though he didn't mind much, his momma can clean if for him when he goes home soon. He prefers her help over his dads, he gets so strict and angry when he gets dirt or blood on him..

He was so lost in his own little world he barely noticed the small quiet padding of familiar footsteps.

"Bob bob! Look what I found!" A small voice calls out excitedly, he turned his head over his shoulder to see his closest friend run up to them. Somehting he couldn't see in their hands.

What's got you so excited now?

You were wearing a cute blue, purple and black striped shirt with jean overalls on top. Wearing a cute black beanie with cat ears on top.

Meanwhile bob was wearing a large red scarf that covered a majority of his face, a hoodie with the tnmt's on the back and some grey shorts.

It was December and it was getting cold lately, snow was starting to fall too. He was surprised you didn't seem bothered by it yet.

When they finally closed the long distance between them you thrusted your hands out to him, Bob blinked back before sitting straighter and peeking into their small hands.

"What...what is it?" Was it a rock? You tend to like those. Maybe a new flower?

"It's a heart shaped rock! Well, it kinda looks like a heart...if you squint your eyes." You giggled when you placed it in bobs hands, but as you did you noticed the red painted on them.

At least he was right about it being a rock, you were getting more predictable.

"Oh! Are you bleeding again?" They grabbed his hands softly, turning them over to look for a wound. "I can get some leaves and my mums lip balm! I'm a doctor so dont worry!"

Bob had to hold back a chuckle, you didn't really know what your doing and besides, he's fine. But he doesn't mind you holding his hands, you do that a lot..

he likes it.

...

And it's not his blood anyway.

"Calm down its not mine, I just found this bird. Look." He shifts over to the side so you could see what he was playing with and he heard you let out a little gasp. Whether is was of horror or surprised he wasn't sure.

"It's a little birdie! What happened to it?" You hovered over it anxiously, unsure what to do as blood bled out of its broken wings. Laying on the floor limply, it's once beautiful white and blue feather over coated with a 'ugly' crimson.

He thought it suited it, was the colour it needed.

"I found it, thought I could keep it as a pet." He petted it's head softly, it was oddly quiet. Was it sleeping?

"So I broke its wings, now it can't fly away! Saw it on a film once that my dad was watching." He turned to you cheerfully, maybe you two could take care of it? Play house or something and this could be the baby, wait. Was it a boy bird or a girl? How do you tell birds apart..?

"B-but it's hurt! We need to go get a bird doctor or something!" You stood up abruptly and looked around the forest wildly as though a hospital would appear out of thin air.