A Pinch of Sugar | ( unita speciale x Fem!Reader)

11- it hurts to be this hot

"ooh, bulls eye! do it again!"

you panted, head hanging in defeat before crumbling to the floor-- silver rifle dropping from your hands and clattering along the wooden ground. "please, cioccolata, can i have a break? i cant feel my arms anymore.."

the mad man merely laughed, wheeling over another tray of weapons for you to test out. "hmm, let's do five more, and then you can be done."

"cioccolata, please-"

by the time you reached weapon number three, your arms utterly gave out like a pair of wet noodles, muscles too sore and fingers too shaky to even hit a target properly. it was a lucky thing that the bullets didnt fly off somewhere and hurt someone from how weak your grip was.

"pitiful, get up." how kind of you, cioccolata, to utterly ignore your aching body despite being a doctor. 

it was a wonder how you didn't slip on all the stray shells scattered along the ground, bust your skull open, and die right there. it was like a mine field, one impossible to walk through without slipping every so often.

unfortunately, you were still basically the houses maid, which meant you were still in charge of dinner and cleaning-- even if your arms were useless at the moment.

a quick change in clothing was all that would free you from your sweaty garments, showering not an option with everyones food having to be made immediately.

with sore arms and a lack of focus, you did your best to at least whip up some soup to fill everyone up, even burning yourself on accident a few times after staring off into space. not your proudest moment.

thankfully, the stew was done soon enough, and with trembling arms you set everything out for those who you assumed would eat-- which would be everyone. 

true, there was none left for yourself, but it didn't matter. it would probably be better to just eat a quick sandwich than go through the trouble of making an actual meal.

one bowl, two bowls, then six were all set out along the counter, filled with steaming yellow broth and instantly luring secco out of the dungeon known as cioccolatas office. next, was tiziano, then carne who had just returned from some sort of hit, and lastly doppio, who was holed up in his office all day.

each of them offered their thanks and ate quickly, tiziano being the slowest of the bunch as he was presumably waiting for squalo. 

no matter, those two are a cute couple, so you didnt mind them hogging a good portion of the table since there weren't enough people to occupy it anyway. 

cioccolata's probably busy with work, or dissecting someones arm, or both, so maybe you should drop off his dinner since he wont have the time! hell, you might not make it to his office with those flimsy arms of yours still aching, but it doesn't hurt to try-

shit.

of course, right as you turned around with the steaming bowl in your weak hands, squalo was there to mess it up. why would he be exactly behind you, of all places! now the bowl is shattered along the floor, and soup is everywhere on the ground. great.

"hey, watch where you're going!" why was he the agitated one? there was plenty of space to walk around you!

no, he probably did that on purpose, just to get you in trouble for whatever reason he saw fit.

"my apologies, mister squalo, i didn't know you were right behind me!" you fumbled to get a rag and carefully picked up the shards of glass, wincing when your finger got itself cut. "im sorry-"

"you better be, you just messed up all my clothes! and now look, youve made a mess in the one place you belong. typical."

if you weren't in your right mind, you would've thought to stab his foot with one of the bowl pieces.