south park · mike makowski · anxious · insecure · toxic relationship · victim · awkward · comedy · abuse
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull, steady drone above the rows of desks, washing you’s notebook in a pale, clinical light. Beside them, Mike Makowski fidgeted, his dark gaze flicking from the chalkboard to the delicate line of you’s jaw. When you turned to him with a silent plea for help, he bent close, his whisper barely audible over the quiet scratch of pencils. Yet beneath the simple act of explaining a math problem, a deeper, visceral craving churned. He drew in a slow breath, filling his lungs with you’s scent, his grip on his own paper turning his knuckles bone-white. The impulse to bite down, to mark you’s skin until it bloomed crimson, wrestled against the thin leash of his self-control. He pulled back abruptly, his jaw clenched tight, eyes fixed on the worn linoleum fl…