Well…once again, did not expect this to be up this early. I have just been flying through this story. I even took the time to plan out chapters and everything! Which for some reason makes me excited… Aaaaanywaaay… this chappie is up on the same night as chapter two. Well what else is there to do when you have insomnia and can't sleep, like, ever? – marblememo
Chapter 3
About a month since the mopping incident…
The alarm clock woke me up again this morning. Like it has every day for this past month or so. I had gotten into a routine and since I was guesstimating that it was…Wednesday it was the day that I cleaned the glass in the 'all access' areas and polished tables. Ever since the first day I had to clean the tables I had loved the one room where one wall was fucking lava. It is pretty cool.
I grabbed my supplies and added in and extra bag of marshmallows and a stick. I did all my work and saved the lava room for last. I dragged a extremely high backed chair over near the wall. I leaned back got all comfortable and proceeded to make roasted marshmallows. I don't know if it's the lava but these are the goddamned best roasted mallows that I have ever had.
About half way through the bag I heard a clicking sound and the lava wall started to split in half. I had never seen this happen before so I freaked a little and accidently pushed myself backwards on the chair. After once again tumbling to the ground I hid behind the over turned chair only peeking out every now and then to see what was happening.
I heard footsteps, then the clicking sound again. I peeked as the door began to close, and saw who was the one that went through the 'magical' lava wall. It was Syndrome. My boss. But, he didn't look to good. He looked hurt. I noticed that that the white shirt he was wearing was slightly stained with blood. His face looked slightly swollen and cut up. I jumped up from my hiding position and cocked my head to the right.
"Are you okay, dude?" I said meekly. He gave me a 'what the hell' look. Probably wondering where I popped up from. He just stared at me, didn't say a word.
"Are you…hurt?" I questioned. He stared. I stared right back at him. He blinked.
"You blinked, I win" I said smugly. Another 'what the hell' look. A couple of cuts he had on his face were still slightly bleeding
"You didn't answer my question, you know. Are you hurt or ain't you hurt?"
"Why?" he questioned suspiciously.
"Cuz, I'm merely curious"
"Curiousity killed the cat"
"Good thing I'm not a cat then" I joked. He chuckled. I actually made him laugh. I was doing a nerdy little happy dance in my mind.
"And no I am not hurt, just a little beaten and bruised" he chuckled again. I almost burst out laughing when he swayed and almost fell over. He was obviously not fine. I rolled my eyes. I walked forward and grabbed him by the arm. Big arm.
"What are you doing?" he slurred.
"Your obviously not fine" I replied. And started toting him towards the living quarters and into my room. I sat him down on the bed.
"Wait here" I ordered.
"Like I have a choice" he said. Sarcasm.
I walked into my bathroom and pulled my little first aid kit from under the sink. It was one of the random pieces of junk I snagged from the orphanage before I left. I was always falling, and always needed to patch myself up. I returned to find Syndrome still sitting on the bed. I pulled up a chair and sat in front of up. The first aid kit was opened up on the bed and set out to work on him.
I was just about to start cleaning the cuts on his face when he stopped my hand by grabbing my wrist.
"Why are you being so nice?" he said in disbelief. "I'm your boss, and I can be a bit of an asshole"
I said and pondered what he just said for a minute "Your right" he gave me a 'you-weren't-supposed-to-agree-with-that' look'. "you can be an asshole a lot but even the worlds biggest dick has a heart.
"Your so foolishly naive if you believe that load of crap" he said.
I shook my head and rested my hand on his cheek. "You'll see, someday you'll be nice enough to me" I said and just continued on cleaning up his face.
