Dutchy
When I woke up, Spot and Skittery were already bustling about. Two-Bits was still fast asleep, her finger twisted around one loose end of the black ribbon she wore around her neck all the time.
"Mornin', Dutchy," Spot greeted. "Me and Skitts were just about to head down to breakfast. Wanna join us?"
"Sure," I said, pulling on some clothes. I looked over at Two-Bits, guiltily. "Should we…wake her?" I asked, awkwardly.
"Not if you wanna live till breakfast," Spot said, seriously, shaking his head. I shrugged, and we headed down to breakfast.
When I got back, Jack was just coming out of my room. I opened the door, and Two-Bits sat on her bed, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Oh my gosh! What did he do to you?" I demanded, rushing to her side. She stared at me.
"Nothin'…" I put my arms around her and hugged her.
"It's okay, Bits," I crooned, breathing in the smell of her hair.
"Dutchy, really, it's—"
"It's okay! You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I promise, I won't let Jack or anyone else hurt you ever again," I said, soothingly, rocking her.
"Dutchy! I'm NOT crying!" I stared at her.
"What?"
"Dutchstah, I've got contacts, and they make my eyes water when I put them in," she said, her lips curving upwards in a smile. I gaped at her.
"Jesus Cristus," I muttered, running my fingers through my hair. She leaned up and pressed her lips against mine, lightly.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"For what?" I asked, bewildered.
"For caring. And for speaking in Dutch. It's so cute!"