"Ouch! Bad chicky! Bad chicky!" Angela wailed, putting Mr. Feathers onto the floor as gently as she could. She raised a hand to her cheek, where she had felt mild stinging. A fair amount of blood ran down her fingers. "Dammit," Angela muttered as she wiped her bloody fingers on her shorts, which, luckily, were black. Hand pressed to her cheek, she scurried into her house to investigate her face in the mirror. A rather large cut- not a gash, at least, was the length of her finger. She pinched the cut together with her fingers (covered by a tissue) and walked to the clinic, scowling. A scar on her face…Would Gill still think she was suitable to be a wife? Her feet dragged along the concrete path as she mumbled incoherently about how her favorite shirt was ruined by the stupid blood. "Uh…Jin? I kinda got scratched by my chicken when I giving him a chicken-checkup." Jin sighed. "I mean, it's not that bad. I just didn't have any bandages to put over it, so I came here." She removed the blood-dampened tissue from her face.
"Alright," he replied calmly, shuffling through his drawer, "I'll just clean it and put this bandage on it." Clean it? That meant…rubbing alcohol. She was bracing herself far before he even reached her. "It's going to hurt." God, Jin could be so blunt. Angela clenched her teeth as he applied the liquid that burned her face. The burning subsided slightly when he placed the bandage on her face. "All done." She rummaged through her pockets in an attempt to find gold. "You don't need to pay for a minor cut, Angela." With a happy nod, she left the clinic, the cut still stinging. And who else but Gill saw her. She stuck her hands in her pockets, trying to look nonchalant about the entire situation. Unfortunately, she was easily found out that she was, in fact, faking it. In a final attempt, she whistled a nameless tune as she walked.
"Oh, uh, Gill! Fancy meeting you here!" Angela exclaimed brightly, covering her cheek with her palm. He looked at her, confused.
"I live here… And what's under your hand?" Gill asked suspiciously.
"N-nothing! I just, uh… How has your day been? The weather's great, isn't it?" She asked, taking a few steps back.
"If there's nothing, let me see," he replied bluntly, grasping her arm. Angela managed to slide her other hand over the place he had nearly revealed. He frowned. "What is it you're trying to hide so much?"
"It's really nothing interesting; no need to be curious about it." She continued to take slow steps backward until a precariously placed rock threw her off balance. Her hands flailed in attempt to catch herself, but was instead caught by Gill. The bandage was greeted with concerned eyes.
"Is this what you were trying to cover? What happened?" He asked. The closeness of his face to hers was making her fidget uncomfortably.
"My chicken scratched my face when I was holding him… I didn't want to make you worry so I hid it," Angela murmured, "I don't want to see you sad, is all…" She finished, looking down at her feet. "B-but who would want to marry a girl with a big scar on her face?" Her voice started to crack as she continued. "It's going to be ugly and everyone will make fun of me!" Angela rubbed her eyes. Gill sighed and pulled her into a hug.
"You'll always be beautiful to me, even if you lose an arm, or have an eye pop out. And whoever makes fun of you is just jealous of such a great battle scar." He pulled away. "It's starting to bleed through; I'll take you back to the clinic." Angela nodded, and smiled radiantly through her dampened eyelashes.