Chapter 62 - Not playing with him

After playing a few rounds of Wood Block, Misha realized that it was quite hard to pit Gabriel in such a game. He tried his best but to no avail. In the end, he only managed to make things difficult for himself, and the teenager easily won every round.

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 pit him in board games.

On the one hand, he had to get revenge for his poor cheeks, which the teenager had stretched to their utmost limits earlier, and on the other hand, his helpless face was very much pleasing to the eyes; Misha wanted to see it again and again.

However, things didn't go the way the boy had planned.

After his umpteenth loss, Misha was starting to lose patience. Eventually, he told himself that if he wanted revenge, he should make a man of himself and directly pinch Gabriel's cheeks. Doing it in a roundabout way wasn't his style.

Anyway, using kamikaze game techniques didn't work today, so he had to try something else.

The idea was tempting, very tempting, so why resist it? Gabriel's cheeks didn't have any baby fat left, but they still looked very tender in Misha's eyes, making his fingers feel itchy.

Before long, Misha made up his mind, abandoning all fairness and politeness.

With a pout, he silently snorted, "Saved by the bell."

Ignoring the strange gazes directed at him, Misha crawled up before running off to the door, opening it wide open. There stood Vanessa and an elderly man, who smiled gently at him.

"Sorry we are a bit late. We couldn't find the place," said the man, handing over a present. "I guess you are Misha. My granddaughter often talks about you, you know? She said you're like a knight in shining armor."

"Granddad!" cried out the little girl, lightly hitting his waist with flushed cheeks.

"What? It's true," chuckled the man as he ruffled his granddaughter's hair. "I just wanted to thank him for taking care of you at 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 second before bursting out laughing, interrupting them. "Why are you so formal? Taking care of your friends is normal, no need to thank me."

The grandfather didn't say anything in response, only smiling as he watched the boy grab his granddaughter's wrist to drag her inside. He watched their backs disappeared before discussing with the child's parents for a while, making sure that everything was fine before leaving.

Soon afterward, Dereck also arrived. He casually greeted his friend's parents and went to the living room, where the teenagers and the children where playing.

It wasn't the first time that he met Masha's boyfriend, of course, but previously, whenever they met each other, he was helping Misha with his nasty pranks. How many times did he put chewing gum in the teenager's shoes, or discreetly poured salt in his glass of water?

The two children had done so many things, and he couldn't enumerate them all, or it would give him a headache.

Now, his best friend wasn't interested in turning the teenage boy's life into a living hell, and thus, Dereck wasn't sure how to behave in his presence. 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 a good-tempered saint, if not an angel. He was worthy of his name. Anyone else would have long scolded them to death.

"What are you doing standing there like a fool?" Misha's cheerful voice resonated within the room, mixing with the joyous music. "Come here and help me beat him up in the game."

As the words left his mouth, Misha rudely pointed at the teenage boy sitting by his side before adding with a snort, "That guy is a bad a.d.u.l.t who doesn't even let me win!"

"I'm not an a.d.u.l.t," corrected the said bad man.

"You're a bad teenager then," sneered the child, crossing his arms in front of his small c.h.e.s.t.

The living room fell silent for a second before the girls' laughter broke the atmosphere, yet Misha didn't lower his head, keeping his chin held high. Today was his birthday, so everything that he said was right.

With a slight smile, Dereck walked toward them and shook his head, saying, "If he let you win, then you will say that he doesn't take you seriously. The birthday boy is quite unreasonable today."

"Of course, I'm unreasonable! On your birthday, you can be as unreasonable as you wish. That's common knowledge."

Avoiding his eyes, Dereck didn't dare to respond to his rubbish, inwardly thinking that his friend was unreasonable every day of the year, not only on his birthday. However, for his own good, he decided to erase that thought from his mind.

A mere peasant should never contradict the princess.

Without saying anything else, Dereck glanced at the only place left and quietly sat between the unknown little boy and Vanessa.

Before they could resume the game, he heard the little boy ask:

"Why are we playing with him?"

"Why why?" asked back Misha with a raised eyebrow, staring at Tristan with unwavering eyes. He had a feeling that his next words would anger him to death.

"You don't know?" replied the boy, his big, round eyes looking at him with some incredulity. "You shouldn't play with fat people and stay away from them."

Upon hearing these words, Misha was left dumbstruck, wondering if he just had an auditory hallucination. And when he realized that it wasn't the case, he felt his face turn red in anger.

Almost immediately, Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. The teenager glanced at him, and Misha reluctantly swallowed back his curses. He tightly pursed his lips as he glared at the teenager, a wronged expression plastered on his doll-like face.

Why did he have to restrain his temper when that kid was insulting his friend!?

After making sure Misha wouldn't jump on his brother to beat him to a pulp, Gabriel gently asked:

"Why are you saying this?"

Tristan seemed puzzled, but he eventually explained himself, "Mom said that I should not play with fat people. She said they were good-for-nothing, and…���

"What the hell is wrong with your mother!? A person's weight has nothing to do with being good-for-nothing or not!" cried out Misha, unable to keep calm. "Dereck is not even fat! He's chubby! And he certainly won't stay chubby all his life! Wait a few years, and that guy is going to transform into…"

Misha suddenly stopped, and his face paled. Just now, even he could tell that he seemed to have said something he shouldn't have. Before he could dwell on it, his best friend's voice snapped him out of his stupor, and he focused his attention on the people surrounding him once again.

"I'm going to transform into what?" curiously asked Dereck, a small smile stretching his lips.

Truthfully, he was used to be called fat and didn't take it to heart, especially when it came out of such a small child who had teary eyes after being scolded a little. The a.d.u.l.ts' gazes were often a lot more hurtful than the kid's words. So, he wouldn't get sad or mad over this matter and was more interested in what his friend wanted to say.

"A-a-a superman!" stuttered Misha, almost biting his tongue. He had blurted out the first thing that came into his mind, and when he realized what had escaped from his mouth, he felt so ashamed that he wanted to hide in a hole.

"I don't want to be superman, though. I want to be Batman!" replied the chubby boy with sparkling eyes.

"…"

Well, Batman was a more realistic goal than superman. At least, he was human.

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Author's note:

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: …