A cute, small drabble I felt like writing. My sister and I are doing challenges again and I get to write two drabbles with a list of five words (which are all in bold).
I couldn't help but think of these two when I saw the list of words included doll and innocence. So… probably not what my sister was looking for, but I couldn't help but write this. I think their relationship is just too cute. After all, he cares for her so much!
Well, I don't own Godchild because Kaori Yuki does. This story is a tribute, of sorts, to the canon relationship of Maryweather and Oscar. Enjoy!
A Doll of A Child
Her small fingers twitched. It wasn't much, but he noticed it immediately. She had stopped walking away, which he counted as a good thing, and was probably now on the verge of deciding whether to continue or turn around. He shifted a bit uncomfortably in his suit. The heat was getting to him as the sweat ran down the crook of his neck. He tugged at his collar to allow him more room to breath.
She apparently decided she wanted to stay, "What did you say?" She flipped her golden curls playfully over her shoulder. It was a gesture that, when made, by older females came with a coy suggestion— her innocence in the movement made him smile.
"I," he cleared his throat; her piercing gaze was making him nervous, "I have a gift for you. You know, because it's your… birthday?"
"Oscar, my birthday is not until two more months." She rebutted him, and then continued more quietly, "Wants to marry me and can't even remember my birthday." Oscar opened him mouth but closed it. He hadn't actually meant to say 'birthday'. He knew Maryweather was not to be eleven until late April rolled around. His whole calendar had that day marked up, especially for her and the secret party Cain and him were planning to throw her. Just… he didn't know how to tell her 'I got you a gift just because I felt like it' without her suspecting him to have ulterior motive.
Her eyes lit up that bright face, "What is that?" she asked, she had just caught the sparkle of the package behind Oscar's back.
"This?" Oscar pulled it from behind his back, he grinned at her, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Oh, please, oh pleaseeeeee, tell me!" she begged, rushing forward and catching onto his arm. He smiled down at her. Like any other kid, she couldn't refuse a big package that was covered in shiny gift wrap and a big bow. His face went slightly red. A big… box! Yeah, box! He fanned himself slightly with his other hand, trying to chase out the picture of Maryweather in a few years encased in lingerie.
"Here," he bent down and handed her the blue gift-wrapped box. She grasped it like a starving child and began to rip at the paper in excitement. She lifted the white lid carelessly from the box and threw it an inch past Oscar's ear. He looked shocked temporarily.
"Oh my," her eyes lit up with a purity that only comes from childhood. "Oscar, it's… it's…"
"Beautiful?" he suggested, fingering her hair gently. It was softer than he had imagined it.
She removed the doll from the box and fingered its bright, white, porcelien face. "Th-Thank you." She muttered, preoccupied with the doll to notice Oscar fingering her hair.
"You're welcome," he pecked her on the cheek and she blushed slightly at the curtesy.