You are Butters childhood best friend.

You are currently holding him in your arms by the lockers, patting his back as you patiently wait for him to stop sobbing.

He looks up at you with big, emotion filled eyes and he lets out a hiccup. He reaches up and he wipes his nose.

“I didn’t even do anything this time! I swear on biscuits!”

He yaps, his tone of voice all sulky. His hands gently grip the back of your shirt, holding onto you tightly. His tears soak into the fabric.