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Refuge in my Brother((Siren&Azuriyuu))

C

CrystalSiren

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 25, 2009
Morgan sighed slightly as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder. God it was hot here, and wearing a long sleeved blouse wasn't helping any. Still the thin brunette didn't wish to wear anything that might...display the rather livid marks still on her arm. This was the studio that she was sure her half-brother taught at. Through the exchanged phone calls and dealings late at night she'd managed to refresh her memory on some of the more interesting points of her estranged half brother's life. She hadn't seen him in over five years; hopefully he didn't ask too many questions.

Dark blue eyes peeked into dim studio windows before she knocked lightly on the door. It was closed on Sundays, one of the reasons she'd chosen to fly in today. She wanted to have time alone with him...to catch up over the past several years. It had been rather painful to convince her father to let her come here, but since she'd already gotten the ticket. There really wasn't anything he could've done. It was at that moment she noticed a figure coming from the back.

He looks so grown up now she thought as she waved at him through the glass. A bright smile lit her face, and for once it actually reached her eyes. It was really happening she was away from her father for the entire summer. It was a freedom she thought she'd never get, and she intended to enjoy it as much as possible.
 
Bartiel sighed a bit, frowning. He'd told his sister that it was probably better if she didn't come over, since his parents would be out for the summer, and he'd said a lot of reason why It was a bad idea if she came over for the whole summer. Not that he hated her, in any way, he just felt it was a bad idea.

Bartiel had decided to remain downstairs as he waited for his sister, repeating her voice in his mind. He'd managed to talk to her until she broke down crying, begging to come over, saying that she missed him. He wasn't sure to believe what she was saying, but he acknowlaged it and told her that she could come over.

Bartiel took over his mother. Bright green eyes and auburn hair which was pulled into a ponytail down to his shoulderblades. Soft, pale skin with a face lightly dotted with freckles. If not for the fact that he was both lithe and lean as well as muscular, he might even look 'cute. In the studio, he was waiting for his sister, using a single lamp to conserve power, he wore a sleeveless V-neck shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans, obviously having not terribly dressed up.

Looking up, he walked over to the dance studio, unlocking the door and opening it, before he softly stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around his sister, closing his eyes. He was gentle. He knew that their eldest brother was incredibly violent and beat his girlfriends, and he had no doubt that Abel had also beaten Sandra. “...Come on in,” he said softly, before taking her hand with a soft smile and taking her into the empty studio.
 
She returned the hug just as lightly, it was obvious she was timid around males of any sort. Despite the fact Bartiel wasn't her brother or father, every time someone came at her she shied away out of habit. It had taken quite a bit of self control to hold the hug for more then a few seconds.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she allowed herself to be led inwards. "Thanks again for letting me stay. I know it was sort of last minute, I just don't think I could stand to be around them for an entire summer again." The more she saw of her brother and father, the more often she ended up with bruises and scratches on her arms and legs. Black eyes and bruised ribs had not sounded like much fun this year. The brunette didn't even want to think of the times they'd been drunk.

Due to the physical abuse she'd suffered from some odd years, it showed in the way she eyed the studio. Deep eyes lingered on doors and windows, quick escape routes and places to hide. Out of sight, Out of mind was a lesson she'd learned on the eve of her 14th birthday. She took after her even further estranged mother dark hair, dark eyes and underneath the baggy cloths a nicely shaped body was hidden. "So you live above the studio right?"
 
Bartiel nodded, trying to give Sandra a soft smile, although he was a little worried he'd look too much like their older brother. It was interesting – Morgan was born out of wedlock, and Bartiel and Abel's mother only found out about Morgan's mother by the time Bartiel was two, at which point his mother divorced the siblings' father, who managed to win the older two children in a legal battle. Because Bartiel and Abel shared both parents, they looked similar; although Abel dyed his hair blonde to look like his father, so there was a good deal of difference there.

“It's fine, just know that I won't have much time to entertain you,” he said to Morgan, trying to reassure her. Looking at her, he noticed exactly how bad things seemed to be. Gently, slipping an arm around her arm, Bartiel led her upstairs, nodding to confirm that yes, he did indeed live above the dance studio. Taking her through the main dance hall, a huge room filled with mirrors, he quietly led her upstairs to where he produced a key and opened the door. “Until I can see the locksmith and have a duplicate key made, I'll need you to be in by 10,” he said.

Kinda weird; Bartiel was younger, but he was the one giving her instructions and telling her what to do. “Do you have any bags that you need help with? I can go get them if you want to make yourself comfortable,” he said, offering to let her explore the two-bedroom, one-bath apartment on her own if she needed help carrying things.
 
Of course she noticed how similar the two looked, but there was gentleness in his eyes. The sort that had been absent from Abel's for several years now. It made him seem softer, less threatening. Morgan had spent the entire plane ride constantly reminding herself he was only related to her father in the most basic way. He wasn't going to suddenly transform into him over night.

She instinctively stiffened when his arm fell around her the urge to jerk away was so strong, it was like a physical pull. Still she forced herself to relax 'He is not Able, and he is certainly not my dad' she told herself sternly before realizing he'd been talking for several minutes. "Oh, I just have a few things." she gestured to the bag on her shoulder briefly. "I have one downstairs, but if you have other things to do. I'll just get it in a second." Without realizing it she was indeed letting him play the role of older sibling. Wasn't she the one that was supposed to be hugging him and giving him the silent comfort all siblings did?

"Don't worry about entertaining me by the way. I have a few books and my music. I'll even help around the apartment if you like. I'm not much of a cook, but I tend to be pretty tidy." it was actually rather astounding how safe she felt around him. Still she guarded her emotion tightly. She'd felt safe before right before her father had walked in a nearly broke her arm over dirty dishes. "Its nice." she commented sitting down on the couch and smiling softly. "And not an empty beer bottle in sight." the last bit had been spoken unintentionally. "Um...that is...you don't drink do you? Not that there is anything wrong if you did...I just...." a sigh. "Never mind me, I tend to ramble.”
 
Bartiel noticed her hesitation when he took her arm. He and Abel, while looking more or less identical, had many differences. One being that while Abel was a bully and a thug, Bartiel was a martial artist, and knew how to read the movements of a person. As she mentioned that she had other things to do, he smiled a little bit and nodded as he reached out, lightly running a hand through her hair. Positive reinforcement. I can't imagine what those jackasses have done to your self esteem, he thought to himself. Even though he didn't think it was right for her to be here when only he was around, it was better than her being at her actual 'home'.

As she mentioned she wasn't much of a cook, he nodded a little bit as she said she wasn't much of a cook, but she was tidy. “I'll teach you some recipes,” he said to her. “Mother was always a terrible cook, and Papa...was always a terrible cook. I've been cooking for them since I was seven. How irresponsible, letting a seven-year-old use the stove,” he joked very softly, giving his sister a smile, before she said that there wasn't an empty beer bottle around. He raised an eyebrow.

“Don't worry about it, I don't mind. Mom, Papa, and me usually have a glass of red wine with dinner, but beyond that I avoid alchohol,” he explained. He didn't like the way she was just seeming to...shrivel up in front of him. He'd have to break her of that. “If you want some, I can pour you a glass...at dinnertime,” he said, as if the red wine with dinner was a hard, stern rule that he couldn't break, or else.

Sitting down across from her at the couch, Bartiel let out a soft sigh, relaxing a bit in his chair. Even when he sat back, his posture was good. “Man, the supermarket was hell today. I'm so tired...do you know how to give a massage?” he asked, glancing in Morgan's direction.
 
She couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "I think you were probably a very responsible 7 year old. More so then I ever was, or will be." his gentle touch had given her chills, that were not of fear for once. Morgan could still feel his hands in her rather long hair, it had been nice. It made her feel appreciated. "I warn you I'm a hopeless cook; I think I can burn water if I try hard enough."

"Oh no, I don't care much for alcohol. It never smells very pleasant and I can't imagine how it would taste." she waved hand slightly before turning to look back at him struggling to maintain a somewhat comfortable demeanor in front of him. "I'm just not used to not seeing them everywhere I look. I clean and clean and they always seem to reproduce." Not that he needed to know *that* much of her personal life. Saying something like that would've gotten her smacked across the face at home.

"A massage?" she questioned "Yes of course, I've had a lot of practice." standing up she walked behind where he was sitting. Looking around she rolled up her shirt sleeves revealing several dark finger shaped bruises on her thin wrists. It wasn't as though he could see, so for the moment it was fine. After all the sleeves were so long and they always got in the way of her rather clever fingers. Hesitantly she started to rub his shoulders finding the bigger knots and loosening them before moving to the smaller.

At one point she'd had a boyfriend, real sweet guy. He loved massages, but when her father found out. Well needless to say it was a text message break up saying he was somewhere in New York. "Is this okay?" she murmured softly. After they’d found out about her skill, both Able and her father had taken to demanding one every night. If she did it wrong, well dinner had never been that important of a meal anyways.
 
Bartiel chuckled when she said that she was a hopeless cook. “Well, if it's true then I'll keep cooking, but if I can teach you, I'd like it if you could learn to cook so I don't have to every night,” he said. He was her younger brother, so really, it would be rather impolite and disrespectful for him to tell her what to do, but she was staying because of his benevolence – if not commands, he could lay out a few expectations.

Bartiel didn't need to sit up for her to massage his back; he always sat up straight, always moving with a great deal of poise. As she began to rub his back, the youth closed his eyes and let out a soft murmur, leaning his head back the tiniest bit. When she asked if it was okay, Bartiel nodded. “It feels good,” he commented quietly.

After a moment, Bartiel took off his shirt so that he could be massaged more easily. Bartiel had...a rather notable slash across his chest. It wasn't too thick, or disfiguring, but it was an incredibly long line which ran almost from shoulder to hip. His chest and back were incredibly well toned, and Bartiel had something of a mild six-pack; nothing with protruding muscles, but there was definitely definition.

“Don't mind the scar,” he said, laying on his front, giving her a chance to straddle him and touch him while he laid down in a more relaxed position. “Martial arts practice with live steel. I made a mistake and got sliced open, but I got better,” he explained, relaxing.
 
((I think I got a bit carried away :oops: ))

A barely noticeable blush covered her light cheeks when he removed his shirt. She's been so caught up in the massage, that her mind had gone to a rather pleasant place if often did when she was enjoying something. Almost like she wanted to lock the memory away and catalog it for future reference. Sort of like when everything seemed dark she'd always remember the day she gave her brother a massage with the sun highlighting his skin perfectly.

She yanked her sleeves down frightened of what he might have seen when he showed her the thin scar. Oddly enough she'd wanted to trace it, feel the tone muscle beneath his skin. Morgan was curious, she wanted to know more. He was a martial artist was he? He'd never mentioned that to her over the phone. What sort did he practice, how good was he at it? Questions upon questions stacked in her mind as she straddled him without really thinking and continued the massage.

Her hands rhythmically rubbed and kneaded his back with a sort of ease that was never apparent when people actually looked at her. If one was perfectly quiet you could hear her singing what sounded like Parallel Universe, one of her favorite songs. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows now displaying bruises and cuts old and new that peppered her skin. However she was too deep in the rhythm of her massage to really think that he might notice them.

In fact she hadn't realized it but it was becoming less like a regular massage she did for her brother, and more like the sensual one she'd taught herself for her boyfriend. All that was missing was the oil she often used for the rare moments of privacy the two had shared. But as she came out of her distracted mind, she realized and the change in technique was obvious. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that....I hope it didn't bother you." she said suddenly stopping and pulling her sleeves back down. "I should get my suitcase and take a shower now. I'll just leave you to your own devices." and she prepared to stand.
 
Bartiel closed his eyes as he felt his sister's massage moving over his body. Bartiel really spent so much time alone, had such a hard time socializing that he wasn't used to massages like this, and his mind just melted as she straddled him, enjoying the feel of her weight on his body. His breath's pace quickened just a little bit as he pressed his cheek into the sofa, his eyes remaining facing down. He didn't look up to see her bruises and cuts.

As her hands began to become slightly more...sensual, his breath quickened. What is she doing...? his mind asked softly as he felt the massage move lower at times...became more intense. It felt wonderful. Feeling her hands stop, he realized what an effect it had on him; he was beginning to get a massage. Shit he thought to himself when he realized what was happening, and as she stood, Bartiel bit his lip and moved carefully, so that his mild arousal wouldn't be noticable. It wasn't a full-blown hard-on, so he was fine.

“It's fine. I've never had a massage like that. What kinda technique is that?” he asked, smiling, acting as if it was innocent. Well, he honestly didn't know it wasn't innocent, he just knew that somewhere along the line, he felt like there might have been a little bit of passion going into the movements of the massage. Thinking about that caused his cheeks to pinken as he found himself looking at his half-sister objectively, noticing her to be an incredibly pretty, if shy, girl.

After a moment's pause, though, he nodded. “You can go ahead and do that, I guess. I shower in the mornings, and after dance practice, so I'll get started on dinner while you shower,” he said, hesitating, before standing up, not bothering to put a shirt on, even as he gave a weak smile and headed to the kitchen, trying to stave off incestuous thoughts and feelings.
 
She was already half way to the stairs when he stood. "I...I'm not sure. I think I read it in a magazine a while ago. I got a little caught up." it was a blatant lie, obvious by how she refused to look up at him. What bothered her most was she'd enjoyed it too, almost thinking of him a just regular guy then her own brother. Funny thing was, he was just a regular guy to her. The family bond that was supposed to be there the one that would've said STOP, it just didn't exist with them. As hard as she tried, telling herself over and over, Bartiel was more of a friend then a relative.

Shaking her head she grabbed her suitcase from the front of the studio and carried it back up. It was actually rather light; she didn't have much in the way of clothing. Mainly long baggy shirts and jeans that were a size or two too big for her slender hips. It was the easiest way to hide the obvious signs of abuse. Naturally she'd been sent to the school counselor and several other people, but she denied it easily. After all it wasn't as though she'd changed the way she acted suddenly.

For all the desire she had to stay in the water until it went cold she knew it'd be rude. So about 20 minutes later she stepped onto the white fluffy carpet and turned off the water, grabbing a nearby towel drying her face. However Morgan caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A thin slip of a girl looked back at her dark spots on her stomach and sides. Scratches above her full breasts, no they never sexually assaulted her it was just and easy place to hide injuries. Shaking her head she dressed in her usual attire and exited in the process of tying her damp hair back. "I forgot...where did you say I could sleep?" she called into the kitchen determined to forget the massage incident.
 
Bartiel smiled as he watched her go, his eyes falling to her hips, watching her ass sway a little bit as he watched her leave, smiling...before he tensed up. Wait, what was he doing? Looking at his sister that way? He shook his head, trying to forget the words that his mother said. Don't do anything funny to Morgan while we're away, she said while giving him a stern look, he recalled. Like she thought that he would try something funny.

As Morgan took her shower, Bartiel made dinner, a well-spiced beef stew. He hummed very softly, beginning to prepare some potatoes, knowing exactly how long the stew would take, before he sat down and picked up his book again to kill time until his sister came out of the shower. Once she was out, Bartiel glanced up at her when she asked the question. “I didn't,” he called back, frankly. He hadn't quite decided, yet. “I guess you can stay in mom and Papa's room. They won't mind, and I don't feel like giving up my room,” he called out, being rather frank about the situation.
 
"Your parent's room?" she echoed softly her eyes flicking towards him. That seemed...well even if they weren't here. It seemed like an invasion of privacy, and that made fear squirm in her stomach. "I'll just take the couch; I don't want to steal their room away if they come home early or something." Morgan had after all packed herself a pillow and some blankets just in case. "I really don't mind at all." Opening the duffle bag she pulled out her pillow and several blankets all neatly folded and stacked them on the edge of the couch.

Everyday she'd simply return them to her bags and it would look as though it hadn't been slept on at all. That way his living room remained neat, and she didn't feel like she was totally invading his house, even though she sort of was. "Mmmm that smells good." she commented as she wandered into the kitchen smiling. The brunette hadn't had a home cooked meal if several years, most of the time she lived off frozen dinners. It was all she could afford on her meager pay check.

Sitting across from him she looked around the room, the kitchen like the rest of the apartment was very modern and clean. Nothing broken and no dishes in the sink, it was quite nice. However wandering eyes soon landed on her half brother whom was still without a shirt. He really was in fantastic shape; it had to be from his practice. "Bartiel I don't mean to be a bother, but what kind of martial arts do you practice?" it was a sudden question but she needed to keep herself sidetracked. Bad girl no checking him out, he's your brother...plus even if he wasn't. He'd never be interested in me. Probably has tons of girls after him, he does teach at a dance studio after all.
 
Bartiel glanced in her direction when she asked about the parents' room. “It's really alright; I asked them if you could stay in there before they left and they said alright. But if you don't want it...” he said, thinking about it. “...Well, I have a queen sized bed anyways. I can share it. ...Or you can sleep on the couch.” The couch was bumpy, hurt like hell, and even had a spring which occasionally poked through, leading him to accidently cut himself on the spring once. He hated the couch. They needed a new one. So he would be gentlemanly enough to share his bed, but he drew the line at him being removed from his room.

As Morgan's eyes wandered, Bartiel's eyes focused on her eyes. What's she looking at? he thought quietly, as he looked at her, admitting that he was examining her a little bit. Unlike her, he wasn't trying to really stop himself; he was simply acknowlaging that she was a very beautiful woman and tried to tell himself that he was admiring her like a piece of art, not admiring her like an opposite member of the species. Lying to himself was easier. When their eyes met and she asked what kind of martial arts, he shrugged.

“A mix of Baguazhang – a chiense martial art based on yin and yang – and judo. It's not very effective for attacking, but I can protect myself from five or six people coming at me at once,” he said casually, before looking at her. “Why? Do you want to learn how to throw people?” he asked, standing up and going to the stew, adding some seasonings and such, stirring it again.
 
Had she just put herself between a rock and a hard place? Why yes, yes she had. Sleep with her brother or sleep on what she just realized to be a rather uncomfortable couch. Both weren't on her list of top choices, especially considering how she viewed her brother. "I...I guess I could share your bed. I just..." she stopped talking at that point and stared down at her hands in thought. She really, really didn't want to invade his parent's privacy anymore then she wanted to invade his. However at least he had given her permission to go into his room. "Unless of course you would prefer me in the other bedroom?"

There let him decide since she wasn't sure she could do it herself. She was never given choices in her world. She was simply told what to do and she did it, or else she'd face punishment. The voice of her drunken father echoed in her brain at that point. "Do what I say or would you rather have a conversation with my boot again?"
"No sir, I'll go clean the garage..." that had been a nightmare. She ended up with several spider bites and a nasty infection on her knee when she skinned it on the floor. Shaking her head she turned back to him and smiled slightly.

"Would you teach me?" she questioned. "I mean I'm not sure if I'll be any good at it, but I'd like to give it a try." a way to defend herself would be lovely when she returned home. If not against her father, more her brother. She was terrified of her dad and only mildly frightened of Able. He was usually to busy with girlfriends to care much about her. She actually felt sorrier for the girls he dated then herself. Still he always managed to find more, girls like her shy and love starved. He'd lure them with sweet words and promises and when they were finally alone, the monster always reared its head.
 
Bartiel raised an eyebrow when she said that she would prefer if he used the other bedroom. In a word, yes. Yes, he would. It would mean he'd have his own free space to read his porn at night, take care of that business, and that he would have his private area. But at the same time, Morgan seemed so crushed, so...shy, that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her, even though as his older sister she should be doing that. Plus she was a cute girl, and waking up to a cute girl was also a wonderful thing, even if he could only really look. Seeing as they hadn't grown up together, and she was only his half-sister, he didn't feel like too much of a pervert, just a little bit of one.

“My room,” he said to her, looking at her with a smile. “That way you're nearer to me,” he said to her. He didn't bother trying to hide the fact that he wanted to be close to his sister; after all, she was his sister. Still, when she asked if she wanted to learn, he paused for a moment, raising an eyeball. “...Just so you know, learning martial arts involves having the techniques used on you...even if they're used with the punches pulled and with gentle grabs for the throws, it still requires I hit you or throw you,” he explained to her. “Not that I think it'll do damage, but.... well, if you have any other major bruises or injuries, it's not a good idea,” he commented to her, with a shrug.

“I'll teach you in two weeks. That way you have time to heal...if there is anything wrong,” he said, nonchalantly as he returned to the soup, but he looked at her with eyes which showed he knew what dark events happened behind closed doors.
 
Her eyes widened slightly displaying her shock at that knowing look in his eyes when he mentioned healing. Was it really that obvious? I mean sure she dressed like it, but it wasn't as though it showed in her personality did it? Sighing she turned away from him, of course it showed in how she acted. Morgan had never been able to hide the truth from anyone, except the people at school. But they never wanted to believe she was being hurt in the first place so they didn't. Human minds really were fascinating things.

"I'm sure it's not going to be that bad. Since I know you'd be teaching me, not just hurting me because you choose to." or at least that's what she told herself. He had been nothing but kind since she came. Never coming at her too fast or showing any sort of aggressive behavior. Sure she'd only been here for a few hours, but she was already starting to trust him. "I'll move my stuff into your room then I suppose." she stood again and dusted her hands on her jeans. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

It didn't take long for her to set her stuff in some unobtrusive corner of his room and return back into the kitchen even more subconscious then before. It felt like he knew some deep dark secret about her now. She really didn't like it at all, even though she was pretty sure everyone knew anyways. But knowing someone knew, that was what bothered her. "Look it's not that....never mind. Thanks again for letting me stay Bartiel, and I can't wait to taste that stew it smells heavenly."
 
Bartiel looked at his sister hesitantly when she said she'd he'd be teaching her. At that, he nodded. “That's correct. But even still, my teaching methods are sort of brutal. I can't be gentle or coddle you...at all, really. I won't be excessive, and I won't break bones, but you're gonna be aching all over for...oh....July,” he said flatly. Maybe he could be gentler, go slower, but he only had three months with her, so she would have to get the crash course, which involved a lot of crashing. After she moved her stuff, Bartiel went sort of quiet, thinking about what to say.

As his sister mentioned the stew, he smiled, but he noticed that she was going to make an excuse for her flinchy and nervous way of behaving. Leaning back against the stove(But none of the burners), he looked his sister dead-on. “I lied about the scar on my chest. ...Here, Let me tell you a story, sis. Of why I'm not allowed to visit you and Abel, and why Tyrin,” he refused to call their father by name, “Doesn't look at me. It started when I was six and Abel was 10. I saw him throwing pinecones at a bird's nest, and asked him why he was doing it. He said that it was because it was his tree. When I tried to stop him, he punched me in the jaw, then forced me to watch as he broke the necks of three baby birds... then drowned the fourth,” he said, his eyes hardening. “...I knew then that Abel was a sociopath, and Tyrin raised him into one. So I asked mom to teach me martial arts.”

“When I was twelve and Abel was sixteen when you were away, he was in his room with a girl. She was trying to leave and said she didn't want it that way, so I stopped Abel and he tackled me to the ground and tried to choke me. So I reversed it and beat him until he told me to stop, I beat him until he swore at me to stop, and I stopped when he asked me to stop. Then he pulled a knife and tried to slice me from crown to crest. So I beat him until he was unconcious,” he said, reaching and lightly running a finger along his scar.

“Anyways, afterwards, Tyrin tried to beat me, so I broke his hand and ran away, getting on the train and coming back to Mom's house. So that's how I know they abuse you, sis, because that's just the kind of people they are,” he explained to her. “...Sorry if you're scared, now. You can sleep in mom and Papa's room if you're scared of me now,” he said with a pathetically weak smile.
 
She looked at him for several moments, trying to see if he was telling the truth. She remembered the year her father had worn a cast on his wrist. Whenever she asked him he'd threaten to smack her with it. So she'd settled on being quiet, which had been the year her grandmother revealed that most of her money would be going to Morgan when she turned 18. So in four months she was as good as gone from that hell hole. Assuming she could survive the last month. They'd been getting worse lately, as though they knew she had gotten most of the money. But she was almost sure they didn't...keyword being almost.

"I'm not scared of you." she said after a moment. "A little surprised maybe, but not scared. I have a scar like that, on shoulder blades like this." she made a slanted upward motion. "I don't really remember how I got it, or why. It was a long time ago. I guess my secret wasn't so safe after all." smiling slightly she stood and gave him a cautious hug more for her benefit then his own. Thinking that he'd gone through something like she had made rather unpleasant memories pop into her head. "Just promise me you won’t treat me to much like glass when you teach me? I won’t be able to learn that way." then she stepped away and returned to the tables.

That hug to her had been anything but sisterly, or at least that's how it felt. Her arms had wrapped under his arms and across his shoulder blade. The body heat she'd gotten from him had burned through her thin shirt so it seemed. Note to self, don't hug Bartiel when he's shirtless she thought writing it down in the mental notebook she often kept. That had felt way too good to be the proper thing a sister would give to her little brother. "I suppose it won’t bother you too much if I roll up my sleeves, since you already know? It's a tad warm in the kitchen and I can't stand being hot." she was of course referring to the bruises that spotted both limbs from shoulder to wrist
 
Bartiel raised an eyebrow when she said that her secret wasn't so safe. After a moment, he nodded, as she approached him to hug him. His hands defaulted to where they typically defaulted in a hug with a girl he liked, around her waist, rather close to her butt. He didn't realize he was doing that until after she had pulled away, though, hesitating after a moment before she asked him to make the promise. After that, he nodded. “Yeah, I won't treat you like glass. I'm probably more made of glass than you are, getting punched really hard in the head twice tends to knock me out,” he said with a light chuckle, shaking his head.

When she asked about her sleeves, he nodded. “Yeah. A lot of grabs and throws involve grabbing your arms, so hiding them from me...well, I gotta be able to see to see if your arms are alright,” he said to her softly as he smiled at his sister, looking at her in something of an unbrotherly way as she walked away...before forcing himself to face forward and look down once she got to the table. Wh-what the hell am I thinking, anyways? he thought to himself before slapping his face a few times to make sure he was awake.

After that, he was able to serve the food, serving some of the stew to both of the bowls, putting one on each setting, nodding politely before he sat down. Bartiel wasn't religious, so he said no prayer or did no ritual before he just started eating, glancing up at Morgan once in a while.
 
Nodding she rolled up her sleeves past the elbow revealing bruises and scar old and new along most of the skin. "They never broke anything, sprained yes. Never broke. I suppose I should be thankful for that." shrugging she focused on the food in front of her and started to eat almost moaning as the flavor assaulted her taste buds. God it was fantastic! She'd never known something could taste so good. "This is fantastic." she said softly. "I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."

Small noises of pleasure escaped her mouth as she continued to eat; to anyone it would appear as though she hadn't eaten in weeks. When in fact it'd only been four days, her punishment for buying the ticket. "You're too fat anyways, a few days without food will do you good." Able had said as he locked her door. Of course she was pretty sure she wasn't, that was one thing they could never do to her. Make her think she was ugly, her boyfriend has said she was lovely almost every day. Morgan just wasn't confident in other aspects of her life.

As any girl could, she could feel when his eyes skimmed across her. It was something of a sixth sense. Not that she could talk; she'd been doing it as well. Watching him eat with taking the chance to skim down more of his still exposed chest. Then when he looked up she'd looked down, it was something of a flirting game. "So you think I'll be okay in a few weeks so you can start teaching me? The last time he bruised me was about...three days ago I think." She finally said as she stood up and started to wash her dish. Despite not having eaten is several days, she only had two helpings before she started to clean.
 
Bartiel frowned as she said they never quite broke anything. The thought that he'd broken something on Abel and Tyrin almost made him smile darkly. But when she said she hadn't had a homecooked meal in ages, he smiled. “You'll get them every day here,” he said to her, smiling. “I'm big on nutrition, and fast-food and prepackaged meals just aren't healthy enough,” he said to her, listening to the almost heavenly sound of pleasure which escaped her mouth. Just as she finished her first helping, Bartiel had been the one to replenish her bowl before she was even done.

Bartiel hadn't realized she'd noticed that he'd been flirting with her, but he hadn't noticed that he'd been flirting with her, although he had been. His eyes occasionally glanced over to her shyly, his cheeks reddening every once in a while. He frowned when she mentioned when she was bruised last. “Yeah, about two weeks. Well, I have this cream that helps speed up healing, but it's itchy, stings like crazy, and isn't hypoallergenic by any means, so if you're allergic to any of eleven certain plants you'll bloat up and get hives.” He wasn't allergic, but he had a friend who was.

“But I'll teach you. I'll even get a friend to help. He's more of a karate guy, but he could still help. Cute guy. You might like him, although he's only fifteen,” he said, smiling at his sister a little. He was looking, even though he couldn't touch, and maybe trying to set her up with his friend might help with the looking thing... Maybe. He didn't know. He just knew he was beginning to have a problem that he should nip in the bud.
 
"I'm not sure what I'm allergic to." she commented looking over her shoulder at him. "So I'll just let them heal naturally. It's not problem they go away fast." the casual way she talked made it seem like it was easy to talk about. But it wasn't, she was making herself do it. Letting him know she wasn't afraid to share aspects of her home life with someone. Making it seem like she wasn't totally terrified of her brother and father. Like they weren't that bad, she didn't want him to be worried when summer ended. Pretending was easy; facing reality was just a bitch.

Setting the dish aside to try she grabbed a towel and removed the remaining water from her hands. "Sure I can use all the help I can get." however there was a sting of disappointment, she had wanted her little brother to be her personal trainer so the two could work alone. Perhaps in some dark part of her mind it was so she could be close to him, without really making it obvious she had more then just sisterly feelings for the gentle teen.

"I just need to know enough to be able to stand on my own for a month. When I turn 18 I'm out of there. I have money somewhere safe, enough for an apartment and another plane ticket somewhere really far from them." she said as she sat back down. "It was another reason I wanted to stay here for the summer. Less time with them when I go back." she was actually amazed Able still lived with them. He was several years older then both of them.
 
Bartiel nodded a bit when she said she would let them heal naturally. He unfortunately didn't quite get exactly how terrified she was; he knew she was scared, but didn't understand how scared. As she moved to wash her towel, he smiled when she said that she could use all the help she could get. “Of course, I'm going to be your main trainer. Ryuuichi will just come along to help sometimes,” he said to her as he moved over to the dishes, listening to her when she said that she needed to be able to stand on her own for a month. He nodded.

“A three-month crash course should be able to get by. Abel tried martial arts before but he lacked the discipline or focus so he got kicked out of the class, so it doesn't matter how weak they are, practically anyone with any skill can beat him,” Bartiel mocked their older brother, smiling darkly, before she said that she would have less time with them when she went back. Bartiel nodded. “If you ever need help, don't hesitate to call, okay? Mom doesn't dislike you, even though you're the daughter of Tyrin's mistress,” he said to her, looking at her.

“And I do like you,” he said after he put the dishes away, before she sat down, the redhead smiling and grabbing her by the hand, looking at her very softly. “I've always liked you, so don't worry about a thing, alright? Your little brother will take care of you,” he said softly to Morgan.
 
"I know but I sort of feel like I don't belong with her. Like I'm proof of what a bastard my dad was before they were divorced. I hate looking so different from you; apparently I'm a little clone of my actual mother." Morgan envied their auburn hair and skin tone; Able and Bartiel were both so handsome. She on the other hand was nothing more then a pretty face in a passing crowd. Nothing overly remarkable about her except perhaps her eyes. They tended to change shades of blue depending on her emotions. It was the reason she lied so badly.

"I remember that, he got expelled for trying to beat up the trainer at another place. People like him have no concept of discipline and control." she watched him as he started cleaning his own dishes. Just observing marveling at how the muscles in his back moved so elegantly. He moved so easily like some great cat, it was almost predatorily. Where as Able just stomped around his little brother glided. Bartiel had definitely gotten the better end of that bargain in the gene department. Without realizing it she shivered and idly wondered. If they weren't related how would that grace follow him into more private settings?

Bad Morgan! she scolded herself and turned away staring at the wall across from where she stood That was the third time she caught herself thinking rather improper thoughts about her little brother. It was bad enough they were related, but he was younger then her too boot. "Aren't I supposed to protect you?" she questioned softly. "It seems our roles reversed at some point." but still she squeezed his hand in return to the kind gesture. Just to make sure he was actually there. So deep in though she'd actually forgotten to respond to his statment about the training.
 
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