🪡 Stitches
— “Patching each other up after a tough mission”
Word count: 836
Through bated breaths and with the scent of bloodied sweat permeating in the air, Bullfrog, with his tattered clothes and blacked eye stumbles over to where you lay. Beaten and looking as rough as he does, the two of you share a knowing glance of reassurance before letting out tiny laughters as he joins to sit beside you, together in each other’s company to distract from the injuries caused by Alex Taylor’s three mercenaries.
“That sure was a tough one!”
Bullfrog croaks as he rests a head on your shoulder. You smile, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you process what you two had done.
“You know… I was worried for you…”
“Worried? Oh, Mon Ami, fret not! Afterall, I am an assassin, am I not?”
“I know that! But… there is still the possibility that you can die in one of these missions, Bullfrog…”
“...”
“...”
“I know, Mon Ami… But I guess that’s why you’re here!”
“Pfft! Oh, so I can save your ass every time you’re close to dying?”
The two of you burst out laughing, wincing a little in the process, until fading back to silence with the lack of the hum from the antenna present.
“Hmm… pretty quiet now that we got the antenna destroyed…”
“Yeah…”
“...We should probably get patched up,” you say as you sit up and pull out a small first aid kit from your tactical gear, “here, gimme your arm, it’s going to sting for a bit…”
As he leans his arm close to you, you dab a bit of disinfectant into the wounds. He hisses in pain and bites his tongue.
“Sorry,” you say, feeling bad for him as you start wrapping gauze around the wounds, “I did warn you.”
“O-oui… that you did, Mon Ami,” he chuckles shakily as he pats his newly wrapped arm. He motions for the bottle of disinfectant which you hand over to him.
“Now it is your turn! Hand please!”
You sigh and roll your eyes playfully, letting him tend to your hand as he douses the alcoholic solution over the scratches and burn marks from that one merc with the laser headgear.
“That woman… didn’t she call you disgusting before?”
“S-she did? I hardly remember!”
“Well I do… I’m glad she’s dead… How could she say that?”
As Bullfrog starts wrapping your wounds up with gauze, he looks down forlornly.
“That’s just how some humans are towards hybrids, I guess…”
“That’s a load of bullshit.”
“Eh, but what can you do, other than to fight back?”
You reach for a clean rag as you gingerly wipe away the blood dripping from his forehead.
“It must’ve been frustrating…”
“... It is…”
“... Well… I don’t think you’re disgusting.”
Bullfrog smiles, fiddling with his hands as a warm feeling takes over his body, “hmm, merci, Mon Ami…”
As you cleaned off the blood you glanced at the rag which is now thoroughly bloodsoaked. Grimacing at how much blood he has bled, you take out the needle and thread as you ready yourself to sew up his gash.
“I mean it, too. Seeing you back there taking on three mercenaries that are twice your size was a very impressive feat!”
“Heh, well as an assassin, I’ve taken on a couple of opponents that are even three times my size!”
As the Bullfrog delved into sharing his tales from the Brotherhood, you were almost done with stitching him back up whilst absorbing half of what he’s saying.
“And… done!”
Biting off the thread with your teeth, you gently patted his head and took notice of how he tended to your wounds. Marveling at the care and a nice little make-shift bow he tied on the gauze to secure it.
“Merci! Wow, great job, Mon Ami!”
“I could say the same to you, partner, this little bow is a nice touch!”
Bullfrog blushes and laughs sheepishly as he scratches his head.
“Oh, you think so? It was just a small habit I picked up when I was in the Brotherhood!”
“Is that so? Didn’t know a merciless killing machine can still carry such adorable habits~”
“A-are you flirting with me? You’re flirting with me, right?
He laughs nervously as he feels himself turning red and becoming flustered. You giggle softly as you give a playful shrug.
“Why don’t we discuss this in a place that isn’t as dank and riddled with corpses?”
You say as you wiped a sweat running down your cheek and started making your way out, “I’ll even treat you to something! How’s about juice? You seem like someone who likes juice, tropical or orange?”
As your footsteps faded further down the dark corridor, Bullfrog stood there in awe as he watched you walk away. His heart now beating just as fast as it did during the fight but now with the warm fuzzy embrace of something… wholesome…
Whispering to himself, as he watches you from afar, waving for him to catch up, “Oh mon dieu, je crois que je suis amoureux de toi…”
…
Fin.
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