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Dante came back to the dorm to Bobbie hiding under a thick comforter, sitting on his bed. He supposed that it was just him reading manga again, late at night; but that was the case before he heard him sniffling. That part worried him.
“Bobbie?” he called him, walking towards the large lump. “What’s wrong?”
The smaller boy gave no response aside from the sudden halt of his sniffling.
“Bobbie,” he tried again, sitting in front of him. “What’s going on?”
He lay a hand on what he thought was Bobbie’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb on it. This was how he showed the fact that he really did care and was willing to talk to the boy. The only question is: would he let him?
“Nothing,” the boy finally replied, laughing nervously. It was obvious he had been crying by the sound of mucus in his throat and cracks in his voice. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry f-for worrying you. P-please just don’t mind me.”
Now Dante knew that there was definitely something wrong. Because he knew that Bobbie was usually the fun type of person. He was loud and energetic and clingy. And he wasn’t that right now.
“Bobbie…” Dante said softly, concern lingering in his voice. He finds the boy’s hand under the comforter and holds it gently. He wanted him to know that he was there and that he was listening.
Bobbie got the message and held the taller boy’s hand back. His hand was so frail and shaky. But the boy himself felt really nice inside. It was like a few weights were lifted off of him.
“You wanna get out of that blanket so I can see you?” He says this as he rubs his thumb against the back of Bobbie’s hand. Dante was afraid Bobbie was hurt or sick. He wanted to know if he needed to be rushed to the clinic.
Bobbie slowly takes the blanket off his head and hugs Dante really tight, crying softly. He was obviously suppressing it too much by the tone of how he cried. His hair was over his eyes though, so Dante—even if he moved to look or not—could not check his face.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” the taller boy asked, worried.
Bobbie shakes his head.
“So why?” Dante runs his fingers through the small boy’s soft, brown hair. “Can you please talk to me so I can understand?”
Dante was so gentle and warm. That’s why Bobbie liked him so much. He always looked so stoic and closed off, but in reality, he wasn’t. He was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. He wasn’t scary at all. Maybe his silence was, but not he himself.
So he sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeves a little, mumbling in a small voice: “I c-can’t.”
Dante saw how he was picking on his fingernails and heard how he hiccupped between breaths. It was so sad to witness, especially since he was the happiest boy he knew.
“That’s okay,“ he hushed, combing Bobbie’s hair with his fingers. “Just tell me how you feel.”
Bobbie now had his cheek against Dante’s chest again, biting his lip as he cried a little more. He looked down at his fingers as he picked on them. “ I feel disgusting—” he sobbed, his voice cracking—”Like an outcast.”
“How so?” Dante rubbed the boy's head, wrapping his other arm around him.
“P-people—” he sniffled—“Just keep staring at me like I just came out of the circus. They judge me and call me names. But I just wanna be pretty—“ a tiny sob escaped his lips—“I just wanna dress how I wanna dress, you know?”
Dante understood now, but he let the boy carry on. He needed to get it out of his system as much as he could. It wasn’t healthy to think or feel like he was now.
“Sometimes,” Bobbie continued, sniffling. “I wish I was a girl, just so I could be myself without the fear of anyone judging me.”
He sounded so hurt, he was even shaking. Dante didn’t know what to say to him to make him feel better. He didn’t really tell jokes—well, good ones, at least. But he just wanted to make him smile again. It broke his heart to see him this way.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Bobbie,” he said softly, holding him close and let his warmth overcome him.
“It’s okay, Dante,” Bobbie sniffled. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” the other replied. “But I just hate to see you like this. Because honestly, Bobbie, you’re more than pretty. You’re beautiful , inside and out. And those people who judge you so harshly are blind. They don’t know you like I do. They don’t love you like I do.”
With those words, Bobbie burst into tears again. He sobbed into the larger’s chest. But his wails weren’t sad anymore; they were of happy relief.
“Dante,” he sighed, holding onto him tightly. “Thank you…”
Dante smiled softly. “It was nothing but my pleasure, My Princess.”
Bobbie pulled back and looked at his face and blushed at the sight of his calm composure and small grin.
“D-Dante!” he giggled. “You said that too casually!”