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“What are you looking at?”
Bartre tilts his head as he looks back at his wife, Karla. It wasn’t too long since he got out of the shower, so being stared at isn't unexpected. Yet he can tell she’s only looking at his face. "Is there something on my face?" He leans closer, giving a more smug grin, hoping to provoke her. Of course, her expression doesn't change, it rarely does. Though she also doesn't move from her spot. Rather opting to lean closer to him, which makes Bartre’s grin grow wider, thinking he achieved what he wanted. Especially as her nimble hands cup his face, "... I don't think I like your mustache." Karla says, feeling Bartre's grin melts from his face.
"I- I'm sure I keep it well kempt." He leans back, feeling out his face.
"It's not that it looks bad… I just recently looked back at a few photos." She trails off, not seeing the gears turn in Bartre's head. "And it reminded me how different you looked without it." She leans away from him a bit, a tint of red peaking from her ears. “In a good way…”
“Oh, oh.” Bartre is not too sure how to take that info. On one hand, it’s technically a compliment on his appearance, in that he doesn’t look too different from his prime. Which is always a good thing for him, as he makes sure to be in peak shape. But on the other hand, it does insult his mustache. One he’s rather proud of having and maintaining. “Well, I don’t plan on shaving it off anytime soon if that’s what you’re getting at!” He asserts, giving a wide smirk as he looks down at her: “Unless, you plan on wrestling it off me?” Karla looks up at him, eyes looking directly into his. “Is that what it takes?” She ask bluntly, as if hanging on to his words. Bartre couldn’t help but laugh a bit: “Only if you can, then I might!” He jests, he’s sure Karla isn’t actually serious. Considering her condition, he doubts she’d actually put her body through that much stress just for him to shave. Right?
“YOU DEMON!!”
Bartre couldn’t believe it, she really is trying to wrestle it off him. Well, more like wrestle him to the ground. If she actually had a blade in her hands, then he would be taking this fight a lot more seriously. Nevertheless, she already grabbed a hold of one of his legs and is attempting to throw him onto his back. He can feel her put all her strength into making him fall. With every push, Bartre’s has to readjusts to keep his balance, but he can still feel himself about to fall. Ultimately he does when she pulls his leg to her and pushes the rest of his body down.
Even so, as he falls, he grabs hold of her to make her fall with him. He whines through his teeth as he hits the floor. Even if Karla could still fight, he knows that he now has a better chance of winning this. Though the sound of the front door catches him off guard. “I’m home!” Someone calls, and Bartre perks up. He knows that voice; “Fir! Come over here-” A sharp strike to his gut cuts him short, still that doesn’t matter. He can already hear their daughter rush to him. “Father?!” She calls, before catching sight of him and Karla.
“Fir! Get your demon of a mother off me!!” He roars, still attempting to get Karla to be under him. Though this had seemingly boosted her efforts. As she shifts more of her weight onto his chest, before pinning one of his hands above him. All while Fir watches in disbelief: Never seeing the two fight like this before in her life. Even as her father continues to calls for her aid, a sharp glare from her mothers cold eyes all but stopped any attempts to intervene.
“...Fir.” Fir straightens out immediately, seeing her mother properly acknowledge her. “There should be some loose cash on the kitchen counter.” She turns back to focus back on her father, “You can take it…” Bartre look up at her in disbelief, “Don’t listen to her Fir! Hurry up and help get her off me!” Nevertheless, his words seems to be ignored, as Fir backs away for a moment before disappearing. Bartre can only hear as his own daughter abandons him, crushing his hopes of winning by the sound of a door slamming shut.
“Even my own daughter…” Bartre mumbles. He looks back at Karla, seeing how determined she is, yet feels her hold on him grow unsteady. ‘Guess this is not a fight worth winning…’
Earlier this morning, Karel was invited to eat dinner with his sister’s family.
As he heads there, he finds himself walking down a path just by a park not too far from his sister’s home. As he crosses its entrance, he stops to reminisce: An act he wouldn’t have let himself do years ago.
He sees how vibrant the floral and fana are even in the summer heat, a smile creeps up his face, thinking back to the times he took Fir here. Remembering the bright smile she’d give him when they played. How messy she’d eat their lunch under the gazebo. Most of all, how sleepy she’d be as they head home, where he’d have to carry her the rest of the way.
It was hard for him not to smile at those memories, as those times have longed passed and can no longer be experienced. Though, he’s a bit miffed. He swears he can clearly see her under the gazebo, but she should be home by now. School has been out for over an hour, surely it must be some other girl from the neighbourhood that just so happens to look like her.
…
Oh who is he kidding, he can see her kendo bag on the table.
So he makes his way over to her, but just to be sure: “FIR! Is that you?” And sure enough, she perks up. “Uncle? What are you doing here?” She gets up, hastily grabbing her bag and snacks.
“I was just about to ask the same thing. Shouldn’t you be home by now?” He says in his usual cool tone, Though, Fir doesn’t exactly look at him. “Yes… However I decided to hang around the park for a bit. So I can train a bit more!”
Karel narrowed his eyes, “Understandable, although, why at the park? Doesn’t your home have a backyard? You could have simply trained there.” She freezes up. “I- You’re right. But I couldn’t, something was going on with mother and father. And I didn’t want anything to do with it!” Fir finally says, not wanting to look into her uncles eye’s. While Karel does understand how that would make Fir uncomfortable, yet he can’t imagine either of them acting out of line without something happening. Least of all his sister of all people: her husband is a different story.
Either way, his niece looks rather upset from the ordeal. So he decides to put a firm hand on Fir’s shoulder, and she looks back at him , “I’m sure it’s nothing that serious that you need to worry about. When we get their, I’ll ask them about what happened.” Karel reassures, hoping that it makes Fir feel a bit better.
Fir seems to think about his offer for a moment before nodding. “Okay, lets go Uncle.”
“What are you looking at, is something on my face?”
‘More like something that’s not on your face’ Karel thought, he could have sworn Bartre had a mustache the last time he saw him. One that he was rather adamant on keeping. Before he could ask, Karla had starting serving them dinner.
“Thank you for setting up the table Bartre”
“Of course, anything for you.” Karla seems pleased with his response, deciding to whisper something to him. Making Bartre respond with a brassy grin: “Oh I’ll make sure you don’t even have to lift a finger.”
Right after hearing that Karel feels a light tap on his shoulder, “Uncle, do you know that happened between them? Cause they’re acting like nothing happened…” Fir whispers to him, he couldn’t help but grimace a bit.
Karel doesn’t think he has the heart to actually tell her why.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing at all.”