"Well, I hope you're happy Ora." Cid snapped, pacing in front of his
daughter who was sitting in a chair and scowling. "Thanks to your
selfishness, our guest has succeeded in burning his hands and breaking two
of his good ribs... What do you have to say about that?"
"He shouldn't have had my book. It's mine." Ora mumbled.
"Oh God Ora! I did not raise you for all of your twenty-seven years to be a miserable shrew that can't share a simple book! It's no wonder you're not married yet. I know girls your age who are grandmothers, you know!..... Now look, if you have any heart, you will pay your respects to Senior Cervantes and apologize for your actions, before he ends up six feet under because the way he blinks annoys you!" Cid turned his heal and stormed out of the room, snapping at his servants to get out of his way or they would be fired.
Ora sighed. 'That stupid man is driving me insane!' she thought. True, she was concerned that Miguel hurt himself again, and guilty that she was to blame, but mostly she was mad and curious. Why did he risk himself just to save her book when it was clear that he despised her? There was only one way to find out.
* * * * *
Ora peeked shyly around the door into Miguel's room, trying not to make a sound. Miguel was staring out of the window, his hands wrapped in clean white linen and a sporting a miserable face. There were dark rings under his eyes and he was still as pale as a ghost, probably because he was still sick. Still, Ora thought, the man was a looker. His golden hair flashed in the sunlight and she could still make out the bright green orbs from a distance. It reminded her of that first night when she watched sleep, how innocent he looked, before she learned that he was a miserable chauvinistic pig.
Ora cleared her throat quietly, gaining Miguel's attention. Miguel's brows furrowed and his mouth scowled. "What?" he snapped.
Ora slowly walked into the room, trying to avoid Miguel's harsh eyes. "I-uh- I just wanted to see how you were."
Miguel looked at her with disgust, and then put on the most fake happy face he could manage and held up his bandaged hands. "Peachy keen! And how are you? Are you enjoying your book, or would you like it well done?" The last bit had a sharp sting in them and Miguel went back to being mad.
Ora inhaled sharply with anger, but brushed it aside and pulled her charred book out of her pocket. "Look... I realize what I did was wrong and... here." She flopped it onto the bed and waited for the usual 'thank you' that went with it. It did not come.
Miguel's mouth dropped, absolutely appalled. "OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE, WOULD YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND!?!?!?! 'Give me my book back, you stupid thief!' 'Oh, I don't want it anymore, here you go!' Well that's just great, but I don't think it'll put the SKIN BACK ON MY HANDS!!!!"
That did it. "How dare you! I come here and apologize and you, of all people, have the nerve to insult me!
"Apologize?!" Miguel laughed. "You didn't apologize. You said 'Here.' That doesn't really qualify as an apology."
"Oh, you are so stupid!" Ora screamed.
"No, you're stupid!" Miguel screamed back.
"Thief!"
"Brat!"
"Peasant!"
"Daddy's girl!"
"Woman!"
"WOMAN?!?!?!" Miguel roared. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WOMAN!?!?!?!"
"That's right, you are a woman! All you do is sit there all day whining about your head, or your ribs, or your stomach. You call yourself a man? Ha! You can't even stand on your own feet for more than two seconds! So that's why you are a WEAK-PITIFUL-WOMAN-BABY!" Ora smiled at herself, amused at how she must have struck a nerve because Miguel was panting hard with rage and his face was turning beet color.
"I...am...going....to.... KILL YOU!!!!!!" Miguel flipped the covers off of his body and leapt out of bed. He knew immediately that that was a mistake, because the world violently tilted to one side and his stomach seemed to climb up into his throat. But the look of fear and surprise on Ora's face made him smile, and he slowly started to walk forward. 'Oh God, this isn't worth it.' he thought as he started to see at least three of everything. He sank to his knees and let out a painful groan as his disgusting lunch of broth and medicine surged up his throat and scalded his throat.
"Oh, dammit!" Ora groaned and walked other to Miguel, hoisted him up to his feet, practically carried him back to his bed, and flung him not so gently onto it. "I told you you couldn't do it. But nooOOOooo, you had to get all butch for me with your death threats and all." She waited a few moments for the expected sharp comeback, but it didn't come. Miguel just curled up into a ball and started shaking. "Miguel?... Miguel, what's wrong?"
Miguel shook a little harder and started to let out little sobbing gasps. "O-o-o-ow.... Why-did-you-have-to-throw-meee-hee-he-heeee?......" He clutched his sore ribs and rocked back and forth in agony, sobbing out loud now.
Ora looked to the heavens. "Ah Christ. Miguel! Mi-MIGUEL! I'M SORRY! I AM SORRY! I didn't mean to hurt you!"
Miguel looked over his shoulder. "A-are you sorry for calling me a woman?" he cried.
"Uh... sure. Yes. I'm sorry."
"And a p-peasant? And a thief? And a crook? A-and a baby? And a-"
Ora rubbed her temples. "YES, YES!! FINE!!! ALL RIGHT!!! I'm sorry for calling you names! Now, are you sorry for being mean to me too?"
"Uh-huh." Miguel whimpered, but still continued to rock in a fetal position. "I'm still in pain though. You f-flung me too hard." He flinched suddenly when he felt soft hands rubbing his shoulders gently, but he soon relaxed and stopped crying, hearing Ora hum for him. It was very nice and pretty, and the fingers massaging his back felt sooooooo good. He slowly let his body fall loose and tilted his head back, moaning in pleasure and letting a smile, his first real smile since he could remember (literally), spread across his face. "Oh.... yeeeeah....." He gasped when the hands started to rub his neck, and he felt like he had just melted into a puddle. "Mmmmmmmm......"
"Feel better?" Ora asked, a smile in her voice. ".....Miguel?"
"Huh?" Miguel asked, turning over with his eyes glazed and a drunken smile on his face.
"I'll take that as a yes." Ora said. "Now, as I was going to say before... Thank you for saving my book. That was very kind of you."
"Oh." Miguel said, sobering up. "You're *ahem!* you're welcome." He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his hands, which was a mistake as he quickly put the pressure off of them and breathed in sharply through clenched teeth. "Damn."
Ora bit her lip guiltily, remembering why he burnt his hands. "By the way.... Why did you do that anyway? I thought you hated me."
"I-uh.... I don't really want to say. I----O-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh......" He was cut off when Ora started to massage his neck again. "Geez, you're stubborn. Well, if you rrrreally must know.... I felt sorry for you-Oh, that's good!" Ora went lower and started rubbing the small of his back and he arched to get more of that feeling.
"Why did you feel sorry for me?" she asked. 'Hmm, this massaging stuff works pretty good.' she thought. 'Maybe I should use it more often.'
"Be-because- Uh!!!" His eyes rolled back into his head as she slid across his love handles. "Because I think it's sad you lost your mother, and I kind of effected me in a way."
"Oh. Do you think that, maybe, you lost a mother too?"
"P-p-p-p-possibly."
'Okay, that's enough Ora'. Ora stopped rubbing and had to stifle a giggle when Miguel nearly screamed in protest. "Uh, heh heh, I should stop."
"Noooo!!" Miguel whined.
"Miguel," she said, cupping his cheek, which he leaned into with eyes closed. "You are a very sweet man. Thank you." Then she lightly kissed him on the lips. For a man who had just thrown up, he tasted surprisingly sweet. "You should get some rest. Goodnight senior."
Miguel watched her as she walked out of the room, and for the first time he realized how beautiful she truly was. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown and her hair was a lovely golden color, much like his except darker. She was small, but surprisingly strong since she nearly carried him back to bed, and very, veeeeeeery good with her hands.
Miguel sighed with a smile on his face. "She's nice..... Hey, Senorita?"
Ora walked back into the room. "Yes."
"Uh.. There's still vomit on the floor."
Ora giggled. "Oh. Well, I'll just get someone to clean it up. And Miguel?"
"Yes?"
"Call me Ora."
Miguel smiled. "Okay.. Ora."
"He shouldn't have had my book. It's mine." Ora mumbled.
"Oh God Ora! I did not raise you for all of your twenty-seven years to be a miserable shrew that can't share a simple book! It's no wonder you're not married yet. I know girls your age who are grandmothers, you know!..... Now look, if you have any heart, you will pay your respects to Senior Cervantes and apologize for your actions, before he ends up six feet under because the way he blinks annoys you!" Cid turned his heal and stormed out of the room, snapping at his servants to get out of his way or they would be fired.
Ora sighed. 'That stupid man is driving me insane!' she thought. True, she was concerned that Miguel hurt himself again, and guilty that she was to blame, but mostly she was mad and curious. Why did he risk himself just to save her book when it was clear that he despised her? There was only one way to find out.
* * * * *
Ora peeked shyly around the door into Miguel's room, trying not to make a sound. Miguel was staring out of the window, his hands wrapped in clean white linen and a sporting a miserable face. There were dark rings under his eyes and he was still as pale as a ghost, probably because he was still sick. Still, Ora thought, the man was a looker. His golden hair flashed in the sunlight and she could still make out the bright green orbs from a distance. It reminded her of that first night when she watched sleep, how innocent he looked, before she learned that he was a miserable chauvinistic pig.
Ora cleared her throat quietly, gaining Miguel's attention. Miguel's brows furrowed and his mouth scowled. "What?" he snapped.
Ora slowly walked into the room, trying to avoid Miguel's harsh eyes. "I-uh- I just wanted to see how you were."
Miguel looked at her with disgust, and then put on the most fake happy face he could manage and held up his bandaged hands. "Peachy keen! And how are you? Are you enjoying your book, or would you like it well done?" The last bit had a sharp sting in them and Miguel went back to being mad.
Ora inhaled sharply with anger, but brushed it aside and pulled her charred book out of her pocket. "Look... I realize what I did was wrong and... here." She flopped it onto the bed and waited for the usual 'thank you' that went with it. It did not come.
Miguel's mouth dropped, absolutely appalled. "OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE, WOULD YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND!?!?!?! 'Give me my book back, you stupid thief!' 'Oh, I don't want it anymore, here you go!' Well that's just great, but I don't think it'll put the SKIN BACK ON MY HANDS!!!!"
That did it. "How dare you! I come here and apologize and you, of all people, have the nerve to insult me!
"Apologize?!" Miguel laughed. "You didn't apologize. You said 'Here.' That doesn't really qualify as an apology."
"Oh, you are so stupid!" Ora screamed.
"No, you're stupid!" Miguel screamed back.
"Thief!"
"Brat!"
"Peasant!"
"Daddy's girl!"
"Woman!"
"WOMAN?!?!?!" Miguel roared. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WOMAN!?!?!?!"
"That's right, you are a woman! All you do is sit there all day whining about your head, or your ribs, or your stomach. You call yourself a man? Ha! You can't even stand on your own feet for more than two seconds! So that's why you are a WEAK-PITIFUL-WOMAN-BABY!" Ora smiled at herself, amused at how she must have struck a nerve because Miguel was panting hard with rage and his face was turning beet color.
"I...am...going....to.... KILL YOU!!!!!!" Miguel flipped the covers off of his body and leapt out of bed. He knew immediately that that was a mistake, because the world violently tilted to one side and his stomach seemed to climb up into his throat. But the look of fear and surprise on Ora's face made him smile, and he slowly started to walk forward. 'Oh God, this isn't worth it.' he thought as he started to see at least three of everything. He sank to his knees and let out a painful groan as his disgusting lunch of broth and medicine surged up his throat and scalded his throat.
"Oh, dammit!" Ora groaned and walked other to Miguel, hoisted him up to his feet, practically carried him back to his bed, and flung him not so gently onto it. "I told you you couldn't do it. But nooOOOooo, you had to get all butch for me with your death threats and all." She waited a few moments for the expected sharp comeback, but it didn't come. Miguel just curled up into a ball and started shaking. "Miguel?... Miguel, what's wrong?"
Miguel shook a little harder and started to let out little sobbing gasps. "O-o-o-ow.... Why-did-you-have-to-throw-meee-hee-he-heeee?......" He clutched his sore ribs and rocked back and forth in agony, sobbing out loud now.
Ora looked to the heavens. "Ah Christ. Miguel! Mi-MIGUEL! I'M SORRY! I AM SORRY! I didn't mean to hurt you!"
Miguel looked over his shoulder. "A-are you sorry for calling me a woman?" he cried.
"Uh... sure. Yes. I'm sorry."
"And a p-peasant? And a thief? And a crook? A-and a baby? And a-"
Ora rubbed her temples. "YES, YES!! FINE!!! ALL RIGHT!!! I'm sorry for calling you names! Now, are you sorry for being mean to me too?"
"Uh-huh." Miguel whimpered, but still continued to rock in a fetal position. "I'm still in pain though. You f-flung me too hard." He flinched suddenly when he felt soft hands rubbing his shoulders gently, but he soon relaxed and stopped crying, hearing Ora hum for him. It was very nice and pretty, and the fingers massaging his back felt sooooooo good. He slowly let his body fall loose and tilted his head back, moaning in pleasure and letting a smile, his first real smile since he could remember (literally), spread across his face. "Oh.... yeeeeah....." He gasped when the hands started to rub his neck, and he felt like he had just melted into a puddle. "Mmmmmmmm......"
"Feel better?" Ora asked, a smile in her voice. ".....Miguel?"
"Huh?" Miguel asked, turning over with his eyes glazed and a drunken smile on his face.
"I'll take that as a yes." Ora said. "Now, as I was going to say before... Thank you for saving my book. That was very kind of you."
"Oh." Miguel said, sobering up. "You're *ahem!* you're welcome." He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his hands, which was a mistake as he quickly put the pressure off of them and breathed in sharply through clenched teeth. "Damn."
Ora bit her lip guiltily, remembering why he burnt his hands. "By the way.... Why did you do that anyway? I thought you hated me."
"I-uh.... I don't really want to say. I----O-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh......" He was cut off when Ora started to massage his neck again. "Geez, you're stubborn. Well, if you rrrreally must know.... I felt sorry for you-Oh, that's good!" Ora went lower and started rubbing the small of his back and he arched to get more of that feeling.
"Why did you feel sorry for me?" she asked. 'Hmm, this massaging stuff works pretty good.' she thought. 'Maybe I should use it more often.'
"Be-because- Uh!!!" His eyes rolled back into his head as she slid across his love handles. "Because I think it's sad you lost your mother, and I kind of effected me in a way."
"Oh. Do you think that, maybe, you lost a mother too?"
"P-p-p-p-possibly."
'Okay, that's enough Ora'. Ora stopped rubbing and had to stifle a giggle when Miguel nearly screamed in protest. "Uh, heh heh, I should stop."
"Noooo!!" Miguel whined.
"Miguel," she said, cupping his cheek, which he leaned into with eyes closed. "You are a very sweet man. Thank you." Then she lightly kissed him on the lips. For a man who had just thrown up, he tasted surprisingly sweet. "You should get some rest. Goodnight senior."
Miguel watched her as she walked out of the room, and for the first time he realized how beautiful she truly was. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown and her hair was a lovely golden color, much like his except darker. She was small, but surprisingly strong since she nearly carried him back to bed, and very, veeeeeeery good with her hands.
Miguel sighed with a smile on his face. "She's nice..... Hey, Senorita?"
Ora walked back into the room. "Yes."
"Uh.. There's still vomit on the floor."
Ora giggled. "Oh. Well, I'll just get someone to clean it up. And Miguel?"
"Yes?"
"Call me Ora."
Miguel smiled. "Okay.. Ora."