She twirled the parasol in her hand, her step light and gentle. Her hands grip the boy's shoulders and her lips descended onto his cheek in a mocking kiss. He pushes her away and rubs his cheek frantically, his fear making him look more disheveled than before.
"Now, now~" She said sweetly, her skirt brushing against the grass as she met his eyes, "Is that any way to treat a lady~?"
He said nothing. Her lips curved with a promise. He might just learn after all.
"You're home as last," Shannon notes as Break enters, "Did you succeed?"
"Something like that," She replies and sets her parasol by the entrance.
He nods again and sighs, "The poor boy..."
"Just your type, my lord?" Break teases, watching him splutter indignities at her. Break laughs as his little lord turns his head away, the light catching in his hair. She reaches and ruffles his head, watching him pout at her. On a whim, she wraps her hands around him, holding him close.
He says nothing. The heart beats on.
"He hit you pretty hard," Oz said as he gently dabbed at Alex's bruises. Alex winced and scowled at him. Oz simply smiled back and dumped the washcloth back into the basin of water.
"I just took an apple," he muttered, "He could live without it."
"The same applies to you," Oz said, rubbing Alex's cheek with the cloth roughly, "It's their livelihood."
Alex turned away and crossed his arms, "Oz, go buy me some apples."
"As you wish," Oz said and Alex felt a warm glow of happiness. He chose not to show it though as he made sure his face was away from Oz in case he saw him blushing.
"Young Master?" She said, peering over his shoulder in curiosity, "What's that?"
"Ah..." She hadn't seen so many laces and bows on a dress before, "Who is it for?"
"Why, for you Gil!" Oz smiled as he dumped it into her hands.
"I picked it out myself!" Oz informed her cheerfully.
"B-But why would I need a dress for?" She said as she attempts to thrust it back at Oz.
"Nonsense, a girl always need a dress, Gil," Oz said as he avoided her hands and gently brushes back a lock of her hair, "Besides, I think you will look good in it."
Her face goes completely red and her hands experimentally run through the dress' smooth fabric.
"I-If you wish it, Young Master."
"I do," Oz said as he combs through her hair. She lets him, the feel of his hands like the touch of a summer breeze on her face.
She does wear the dress on Oz's fifteenth birthday. After that, she burnt it herself.