Author's Note: I have no idea. Some fluff? Dunno what really qualifies as fluff, but yah. NasChunks, and that's about it. Not sure about the genres either.
There comes a time in every man's life where he must puff up his chest, flex his muscles, step forward and betray not a flicker of fear as he confronts his deadliest and worst fear. This particular time had come for O'Chunks McSmith. He stepped into the kitchen of Castle Bleck, head held high, as he prepared for his worst and most petrifying fear, one that would probably chew him up and spit him out without batting an eyelid.
An early-morning Nastasia glared up at him from behind misty glasses.
Grinning awkwardly, O'Chunks took his seat at the table. Next to him, Mr. L and Dimentio were engaging in an arm-wrestle. L was winning. As usual.
Straight across from him, Mimi was playing with her food dully. She looked up and snickered at the evil face Nastasia was giving the Scotsman. O'Chunks, getting the picture, looked up and smiled at Nastasia.
She didn't take it lightly.
"O'Chunks, you were two minutes and fifty-three seconds late for breakfast," growled Nastasia.
"Ah, sorry 'bout that, lass, ah was just - "
"Do you have ANY idea how long I had to wait for you?" demanded the secretary. "Almost three minutes to wait! In that time, a bomb could've gone off, or you could've been murdered or seriously injured, and I would take the blame, and - "
"Yeesh, Nastasia," interrupted Mr. L, ruffling his wings. "Just three minutes. Three! You need to chill, you're so paranoid... and... uptight..."
He withered at the look Nastasia gave him. Dimentio stifled a laugh behind his fingers. O'Chunks leapt to his friend's aid.
"Nastasia, he was just jokin', he didn' mean - "
"Mean what?" hissed Nastasia. "Mean WHAT?! That he doesn't CARE about the stuff I go through, day in, day out? That he doesn't give a Goomba's arm that I work my butt off just to keep things in order? That he doesn't consider the stress I suffer?"
"Um, Goombas don't have hands, dear Nastasia," chuckled Dimentio.
Nastasia screamed and stomped out.
"Yeh okay, lass?"
"I'm fine," said Nastasia, sniffling. "I just get stressed sometimes."
O'Chunks stepped into Nastasia's office-like room. Everything was symmetrical, and organised. All papers were filed away into alphabetical order. O'Chunks admired how well the lass could keep her room tidy.
"Ah realised," said O'Chunks seriously, sitting down on the grey-and-pink-chequed bed. "Nastasia, maybe yeh need a holiday. Y'know, bit o' time tah get away from the Castle. Time to yerself."
Nastasia sat bolt upright. "N-no! I couldn't do that! The Count wouldn't have my help, I'd be abandoning my post, the Castle would fall into disarray - "
"Ah'm sure we'll manage fine," replied O'Chunks, smiling.
Nastasia looked down at her fingers, which were twisting and turning. "I... I guess..."
"Good," said O'Chunks, standing up. "Ah'll ask tah Count if he c'd pay fer yer holiday to Delfino Island fer a week. If not, ah'll pay it meself."
"D-Delfino Island?! B-but that's like one-hundred coins per day!"
"Ah'll manage," said O'Chunks. "Anything fer you, lass."
And he walked out.
Author's Note: I SUCK AT ROMANCE.
