Next chapter, yay! Please point out any mistakes or just anything in general that could use improvement. You're the readers so it's your experience. I'm not asking for reviews simply for the number, I couldn't care less, but what I do care about is how I can improve. Be mean, don't be mean, it doesn't matter but I would prefer some tough criticism. Dialogue, keeping characters tied to their strings, anything.

Also, I highly reccommend that you watch Professor Layton and Don Paolo: A Whole New World. It completed my life very nicely.

Don gets all pissy in this chapter. He's such a square. Enjoy!

Checking her appearance in the mirror of the bathroom, Flora seemed satisfied with how she looked. She stepped out into the hallway of the Layton household and picked up her case quietly before settling herself in her room. She sighed, looked out to the early dawn from her window. Focusing on her hands again, she thought about what would happen. When she heard light knocking she hid the case beneath her bed again and inquired with a whisper who was at the door. Luke's head emerged from the open doorway with a smile.

"Why aren' you in bed?" He asked curiously.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep for long. I feel like something's bothering me." Flora mused quietly. Luke smiled and advanced further into the room.

"Wha' is it, Flora?" She inwardly chuckled as she thought about how Luke trusted her enough to think that these thoughts were hers.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm over-thinking? Maybe I should try to relax..." She thought aloud.

"Leave it to me!" Luke shouted. Flora's eyes widened and she jumped with fright. Covering her friend's mouth, she hissed loudly.

"Not so loud, Luke! You'll wake the Professor!"

"Sorry, Flora... But, I was thinkin', what if we all spent the day together?" He mumbled behind her hands. She removed her hands and dusted her dress. Flora smiled softly and spoke even more so.

"I'd love that."

Exhausted after a whole day of being a kid, a girl even, Don Paolo easily removed his disguise without hesitation. He sighed with relief and laid back against the Laytonmobile's driver's seat. It had been... nice to spend the day with Layton but him and the kid were still incredibly distasteful, according to Don. After an almost-nap, Don Paolo snapped to attention and eyed the grey case that he'd brought with him again. Dreading his destination for several reasons, Don hesitantly started the car up and drove away from Layton's with a final look at the house's dark windows.

He had no idea what to tell Flora. He'd promised to tell her about why he was acting in her place but a promise had no meaning. People used the idea of promises to keep other's happy or quiet. A promise held no authority over those who used it and only those naive to put their trust in those people would only be disappointed with the outcome: the anti-climax, the dull reward received or no reward at all. Only the foolish would trust a promise-breaker who claimed to be a maker. Only the foolish would trust their regular captor.

All the promises Don had made and broken in his life and those that were promised to him skimmed the surface of his memories as he briefly looked over them. Finished with his reminiscing, Don's thoughts turned to how he was going to handle Flora. He could make an excuse; he had plenty. In fact, he could say nothing at all and hope she forgot about it. Even if she did want to talk about it he could ignore her. Simple!

As he arrived at his street and pulled over, Don gritted his teeth. Gathering his wits, he exited the car with his grey case, let himself into his terraced house, turned on the lights. His possessions were few and far between and the only thing that had travelled with him from his various hideouts was the chair that Flora was supposed to be tied to. Once again, however, she had set herself free. He sighed and rubbed his face with exasperation. Hopefully, she hadn't taken to the fields yet.

Carefully, he ventured further into the house, wary of traps. He passed the small bed to the tiny kitchen that could only really hold one person at a time. Opening the door and expecting a brick to the face, Don was verily surprised. Flora was standing by the worktop, cramped, in actuality, patiently stirring the tea gushing in the fine china. Upon hearing the entry and the hoarse "Huh?", she turned to face Don with a smile.

"I made tea. Would you like some?" Don stood still but eyed the cups cautiously. Flora's shoulders slumped.

"I didn't do anything to them." She drank from one of the cups and smiled sweetly, "See?"

His stance illustrated the perfect picture of pure suspicion as he nodded towards the other china.

"What about that one?"

"Well, a lady never drinks from another's tea. It's rude."

"I don't care. Drink it."

Flora's eyebrows raised in defeat at the stern command as she placed her own teacup down, picked the other up. She turned to face Don and looked him in the eye as she sipped.

Satisfied, Don reluctantly nodded and took the cup from her as he stepped into the kitchen. She squeaked with surprise when Don downed the whole substance and threw the cup into the unused sink, smashing upon impact. Swiftly turning, Don withdrew from what could hardly even be called a kitchen. Flora recovered after a long moment, picked up her tea and followed.

"So," Flora started quietly, quite literally ripping through the silence with some effort as she watched Don eating cold noddles from a paper cup, "What was it that you were going to tell me?" She sipped from her tea carefully and looked about the room. Excluding the couch that they were using, the room had no other furniture and the window opposite was boarded up, like the one in her 'room'. Spacious, she thought.

Don didn't answer and seemed to eat all the more faster, eyes fixated on the remaining noodles- quickly depleting, they both mentally noted. She supposed that it was rude of her to ask someone something when they were eating so she waited patiently. However, when he finished, he stood abruptly, walked to the kitchen's bin from the old tattered couch that they were sharing. On his way back, he avoided the couch and vanished into the next room to retrieve his case. Upon doing so, he took out the necessary items and returned to the "lounge".

Once again, he threw a bag of food at Flora but kept a small bag for himself. Intrigued, Flora asked, "What's that?"

"Wha-?" Don was startled by the precipitous question but sighed and continued, "Oh. I'm stayin' the night. This is for you." He plucked a blanket and a poor excuse for a pillow from the bag and threw them at her too. Prepared, she caught them.

"But... what are they for?" Don stared at her mockingly.

"Well, child, they're for sleeping. Speaking of that, get to it." He left the lounge to her temporary room and laid himself down on the bed before calling out, "And don't try anything, brat."

Flora looked on with sadness at the events that occurred in the space of a few seconds. He just took my bed... Rubbing the premature tears from her eyes she stood and followed her captor with determination. Opening the door just a crack, that he had slammed shut with his foot, she noticed that his eyes were open and gazing at the ceiling. Gathering courage she stepped through the doorway.

"You're not even sleeping, Mister."

Don groaned and threw an arm over his eyes in a poor attempt of blocking her out.

"Go. Away."

"No. If you won't be a gentleman and you "don't care" for manners in this house then, no, I won't leave." She couldn't have apologised enough to the Professor in her mind for that sentence.

This encouraged another deep groan of irritation which only fuelled her rising anger.

"What was the secret anyway? If you tell me, I'll leave."

A moment's hesitation. "You'll leave?"

"I promise."

Ugh, that word again. Don knew all to well how these things played out. He would confide in someone to fulfil a promise or be promised something in return but it always turned out for the worst. Even he played the game a few times. He was playing it with the kid, when he thought about it.

"You'll leave straight after this, okay? No questions. Nothing." Flora nodded enthusiastically and held the doorknob to show that she would do as she was told. Don breathed deeply.

"I have herpes."

...

"Why must you lie to me?" Flora snapped loudly.

"Hey, it's called a secret for a reason. Now get out brat." He turned away.

"No!"

"Kid..." Don warned as he faced her again.

"N-no."

"That's it! Do you want to sleep in the chair? I paid money for that stuff back there and you're not gonna use it? How ungrateful!" He yelled.

"Ungrateful! You think I'm ungrateful?"

"Yes! Now either get out of my face and sleep on the sofa, or get out of my face and sleep on the chair! Your choice!" He faced the wall again.

A few seconds passed before he heard a sniffle and it was all he could do not to turn around. Great, the kid was crying.

"And I was starting to trust you." She cried softly as she disappeared behind the door.

"You don't wanna trust me, kid." He said gruffly. He didn't care whether she heard it or not.