I'll behave

"Would you stay still?" She squeezed a clean piece of white cloth which had steam emanating, aiming for his hand.

"That's thing is freaking hot!" Allen yelled, dodging her perceived attack on his knuckle. "Could you atleast let that thing cool down a little?" Allen hissed.

"Do you want this in your mouth instead?" She threatened. "If you don't want to experience this again, how about not punching a wall when you feel wronged or angry?" She shot a hard glare.

"That's not what ha- Oooo...w!" He grimaced as the hot cloth made contact with his knuckle.

Camille lips curved upwards, "Maybe that's going to shut you up for a while." She gave a hearty laughter at her tactics.

"How the hell are you even holding that?" Allen yelled, pointing at his current enemy.

"Oh! This?" Camille raised the steaming cloth to his face.

"Y-yes!" He backed away, scared of what effect that could do to his face.

°I will try never to have a wound on my face at the very least which would warranty this kind of treatment!° He drew his legs up, squinting his eyes to the pain as Camille continued her assault on his hand.

"It's simple actually," Camille finally spoke, "with an idiot for an elder brother, and a father serving as Knights for the Kingdom, there is a lot one has to pick up on the way. Mother already has father to deal with." She stopped what she was doing for a moment, reminiscing on those times.

"Oh how I wish that idiot would get married already, or at the very least show he's interested in someone, so it would be her problem and not mine!" She squished the cloth in rage, water squirting off it.

"Woah! Calm down, I get it." He dreaded any chance, even the faintest of her transferred anger on his hand, "I get it now, okay? But could you be atleast gentle?"

"Fat chance!" She laughed, "You brought this upon yourself."

Allen sweatdropped, his blue eyes losing its spark for a moment due to the fear of the incoming pain if she continued again.

~~~~~~~~~~

"There we go!" Camille tied the last strip of bandage on his injured hand, looking at her masterpiece, she smiled, satisfied.

Allen looked down at his arm, his eyes widening in surprise. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Pretty much!" She bobbed her head in answer.

°A... A bow?° He looked on the design which stood proud and tall, spreading it's tails on his fingers.

"Why would you knot a bow on my injury?" He yelled in embarrassment.

"Why are you shouting?!" Camille yelled back, covering her ears. "That's called a bandage! Don't you know?"

"Why wouldn't I know?" Allen countered.

"You're still yelling!" Camille made some clicking noise, shunning his argument.

"..." Allen sealed his lips shut, the meager argument was getting nowhere.

"This would take us nowhere." She gave up.

°Finally!° Allen heaved a sigh of relief.

"Doesn't it feel soothing? My mother would always do this for my father, he never complained, nor did my brother. This is a sign that we care and we believe it makes the injury heal faster." She rolled her eyes at his childish outlook on her one gesture of care.

"Why do you care?" He looked down, gritting his teeth.

°Because you bring out my caring side, because I can't stand to see you hurt° Camille zoned out for a while.

Shaking off that thought, she replied: "I'm not ready to see an idiot die so soon, and frankly black and I aren't best of friends." She shone a grin.

"Is that the only reason?" Allen searched her hazel orbs, for some reason he wanted to hear more than that.

"What else could there be?" She avoided his locked gaze on her, tension filled the room.

"..." His eyes trailed to her lips, he couldn't tear his gaze from it.

"Whew! Aren't we done here?!" She stood up abruptly, picking up the bowl, rushing to the kitchen.

"Are you going to leave me also?" His speech cryptic and sober, he held onto her arm before she could leave.

"What are you doi-" She was pulled down against her will, but her head registered one thing.

°Oh no! The bowl!!!° She opened her mouth in shock as the content inside the bowl flew up into the air dangerously raining down in a few seconds.

Allen also noticed one flaw in his rash decision, looking up at the same moment to the incoming hot water shower. Using his fast reflexes, he pushed Camille away, pushing himself backwards with his chair.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!" Allen blew on his feet, as tiny droplets which had made contact with the floor splashed on them.

"Are you alright?" Camille asked, her concern for Allen overshadowing the growing pain to her back caused by her fall.

"Forget about me," Allen limped towards her, assisting her up with his left hand, "I'm sorry for what happened earlier, I don't know what came over me." He looked anywhere but her, his cheeks flushing a tint of red.

"That's okay, but you'll have to help with something." Camille brushed her blue pleated skirt.

"What would that be?" Allen cocked a brow.

Walking into the kitchen, Camille came back with two rags in hand, "We are going to clean this mess up!" She squealed in delight.

°Why would someone be so happy about cleaning° Allen deapanned as he scrunched up his nose in irritation.

"Seriously?!" Allen whined, "Take a look at this," he rose his injured arm which was wrapped in bandages, "Now we wouldn't want this bandage ruined, look at all the hard work you poured into this master piece!" He feigned marvelling at her work on his arm.

°Oh now he views it as a masterpiece?° Camille rolled her eyes.

"You would be stupid, if you think that would work on me," She shook her head, walking up to him, looking upwards to meet his eye. "Now let's get cleaning!" She patted his shoulder, shoving the rag into his hand.

"Do I really have to?" Allen grumbled, throwing the cloth in the air and catching it right after.

"Yes!" Camille's grip on his shoulder blade tightened, "Yes you have to, after all it's not totally my fault." Her twitching brows scaring the hell out of him.

°I hate my life° Allen deadpanned.

"Besides, as skilled as you are, you should be able to pull this one off!" She praised.

"Ha ha, very funny!" Allen nudged her on the rib.

"Camille!" A voice called behind them.

"Mr Arnald!" Camille beamed with joy, walking up the stairs to meet him, opening her arms for a hug.

"Allen!" His father looked down at his bruised arm.

°I guess my plan to stop him from leaving worked° His father said nothing more than his acknowledgment of his presence.

"Father!" Allen replied in like manner.

Clearing his throat, "Allen do take care of this shop while I'm gone." He ordered, "Camille please be a dearest and make sure he follows through with my order." His mood switching from cold to warm as he spoke to the both of them.

"Tch-" Allen scoffed, here he was with a bandaged hand, clearly visible to anyone who isn't blind, but here his father was, only concerned about the shop.

"Really father? Do you also not believe in my skill? Or are you just not aware of it?" Allen yelled, trying as much as he could not to spill out lingering anger from earlier that morning onto his father.

~Where are you going, father?~ He pulled out a paper and pen from his pocket, flashing it's content for his father to see.

"That is none of your business, you two can carry on with whatever you were doing, I'll be off now." His father walked down the stairs, heading straight for the door.

Holding onto his father's hands before the door could be opened, he narrowed his eyes, "Why do I feel you had a hand in what happened today?" He released his grip on his father, wiping his face in frustration.

°Yet again, he might not!° Allen's hands trembled, forcing himself to stay still while his father leaves.

"Argh!" He yelled, kicking on the door which had closed shut after his father left.

"Would you watch it, idiot!" She hissed, "Ah! I know, you would love a 'hot' massage on those little toes of yours, right?" Camille threatened.

"I'll behave!" Allen sighed in defeat. "You win!" He took a deep breath, "Happy?!"

"Not exactly!" Camille eyed him suspiciously, folding her arms, she used her head, signalling he goes upstairs.

"I...I should go up?" He nervously took a step backwards. "W.. why would I do that?" He cursed internally at his lack of proper communication.

°What has this woman done to me? When was she ever considered a woman to me in the first place?° Allen looked at the ceiling, his thoughts confusing even to himself.

"Weirdo!" Camille mumbled, "Get right up to your room and take a rest, your brain needs a reset."

"R- Right." Allen's replied at default, his brain still slow in computing all the information together.

~~~~~~~~~~

| >> t << |

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