::Schirm::
((an OzBert))
Prequel to ::Porcelain::
Chapter 2: Ritter
BANG!
The loud crash ripped Oz from his daydreams. He groaned, rolling over in bed, his nerves now on end. He cursed the maids for their carelessness before squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain his peaceful state of mind.
…No peace returned. It was only a few moments later when he could hear Misses Kate yelling angrily.
But…it wasn't the maids' names she was screeching.
It was—…
"GILBERT, YOU FOUL, CARELESS EEL, I OUGHT TO—"
Oz didn't need to hear anymore before he sprang from the bed and booked it out of the room and down the stairs furiously.
He made his way into the kitchen with tightly clenched fists, and a tighter-clenched jaw. He stopped dead in his tracks upon entering the kitchen.
It was almost /completely/ covered in flour; the cupboards, the floor, and the counters all sprinkled with the powder. It was even floating around in white puffs in the air.
Oz strode in as Mrs. Kate continued scolding the raven-haired servant boy, whose clothes were now stained half-white from the flour. It would have made him blend in with the floor he was perched on, if he weren't shaking violently and sobbing aloud.
"I-I'm so s-sorry Mis-ses Keito! I-I just—"
The ornery old woman scoffed, "No excuses! You'll have this room SPOTLESS before—"
"A-HEMMM." Oz cleared his throat over exaggeratedly.
Gil and Mrs. Kate both turned suddenly to look at him. Gil melted at seeing his master, hanging his head low. Kate, however, scowled and stepped towards the Bezarius teen,
"/This/ little rat tried to reach the top cupboard and dropped the flour bin /everywhere/." She tattled snootily, childishly for her old age. Oz watched her blankly as her finger pointed shakily to the crying, flour-clad boy on the floor.
"Leave." Oz ordered, "Now."
Kate smiled, turning to Gil victoriously.
"Not him. You."
Mrs. Kate did a double-take, "B-but…young master…!"
"At once, if you don't mind. I will clean up the mess. Now leave us." Oz's gaze remained apathetic.
The woman wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress guiltily before turning on her heel and leaving the kitchen to the two teens.
Oz sighed, stepping slowly over to the other boy, who was still on all fours, head hanging low in embarrassment of the state his master had to see him in, waiting to be scolded by him as well.
The blonde knelt down next to him, holding out a hand.
Gil looked up carefully. First at the hand. Then into the bright emerald eyes of his master. The expression on Oz's face; calm, serene, forgiving… It melted Gilbert's innards. He grit his teeth and hiccup-sobbed, taking the blonde's hand with both of his own, holding it above his head and bowing lower.
"G-Gomenasai…! Gomen—… Ozu, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I only wanted to make the young master's meal and—"
He was dragged up onto his feet before he could finish. He blinked cluelessly, standing now only a half a head shorter than Oz, who was smiling wholeheartedly at him.
The Bezarius boy shook his head, reaching out to wipe the mushy-floury tears from Gilbert's face.
"I know. It's okay. I didn't really want breakfast anyways."
Oz pulled him into a tight hug.
Gil squirmed against him, "B-Bocchan…! I'm all covered in flour! If you do that, you'll get dirty!"
"Oh, quiet!" he squeezed Gil tighter, then released him, ruffling his rugged black hair, causing more flour to flutter around in the air above them, "Like I care about /that/."
Before the younger could object, Oz had snatched him by the hand and dragged him away to the washroom. His personal washroom.
Gilbert gasped, "N-No! I can just bathe in the servant's washroom! Really!!"
But Oz didn't let go. He shut the door and began running the water in the large marble bathtub, which the servant boy never thought he'd have the honor to; more than /scrubbing/.
"Hop in the tub," the little master commanded, "I'll run grab you some clean clothes, 'kay?"
Gil simply stared at the elegant, shiny tub in awe and denial. There was no way he was allowed to bathe in it… No way…
"If you don't hurry, the cats might smell the flour on you and track you down…"
Gil's hand tightened on Oz's. He looked up at him, wide-eyed as the blonde laughed.
"O-…..Ozu……"
"It was a joke, just get in the tub!"
"B-but—…!"
"CATATTAAAAAACK~!" The teasing blonde pushed the younger teen, causing him to flail and topple over into the tub of warm water.
"UWAAAA!" Gil sobbed, sitting in the bathtub with legs hanging over the edge all askew, "Ozzzzz-hz-hzzzzz!"
But his master had already bolted out of the room (while "Nyaaaa!"-ing psychotically), leaving him alone in the silent, stark white, echoey bathing room.
Gil fidgeted, pulling himself all the way into the tub, his clothes becoming heavy from the water clinging to it. He sniffled, wiping his face with one hand. He felt undeserving. Why had Oz saved him from Misses Kate's scolding? He'd even offered to clean up the mess that Gil himself had made! It was so unfairly kind.
He stuck his head under the running faucet of the bath, washing the baking flour out of his hair and from his face. The water was warm, warmer than he was used to in a bath. The one's he'd usually take were bitter, cold, in a rustic-smelling all-too-small tub. It was like heaven to be able to stretch his legs and lay back in the water; To be able to dunk his head underneath without getting spine-racking shivers from the water's cool temperature.
"Ta-da!" Oz shuffled back into the room, setting a fresh outfit on the stool next to the tub, "You can change into those after."
Gil sat up in the water, looking at him in astonishment. He hadn't expected clean clothing.
"…of course, you owe me one for that." Oz trailed off, mumbling in defeat, trying to peel his mind from the thought of how enchanting the younger boy looked, perched upright in the water, eyes wide with excitement and disbelief, not unlike a little child on Christmas morning.
"Mmh! Of course!" Gil beamed up at him, "Thankyou…Bocchan."
Oz made no reply.
Gil looked down at the water, now a bit murky from the flour that had been stuck to him. He turned to his master, who seated himself down on the floor next to the bathtub, leaning his side against it.
"Don't beat yourself up, alright? …For the incident with Misses Kate. She's just… a stick in the mud."
Gil blinked, "But—"
"It wasn't your fault."
The brunette scowled, confused. Why did Ozu-bocchan look so upset? His head hung low and his replies were curt and abrupt. He didn't even bother with teasing Gil.
"Maybe…" Gil cleared his throat, his voice cracking slightly, "…after I clean the mess…we could finish making those pancakes. And have a brunch together…!"
He almost regretted having said it, since Oz kept pretty silent, but then the blonde turned, grabbing Gil by under the arms and pulling him up into a hug, the edge of the bathtub being the only thing between them. He held onto the boy tightly, burying his head in his neck.
"Nh…! ...Bocchan….?"
"Mmh…?"
Gil smiled softly, bringing his arms up around his master's lightly, cautiously,
"Thankyou."