Bad Intentions ↠ h.s.

Chapter Four

As soon as dinner was over, Arabella launched out of her seat, immediately volunteering to do the dishes. Ashley looked pleased that she wasn't going to have to do them. I narrow my eyes at the younger girl while she went around the table collecting our plates and stuff. "Arabella, you don't have to," I assure her, rising out of my chair quickly. She winces. "Here, sweetheart, let me do them. You relax."

"No, I want to," she insists, moving away from me before I can grab the tableware from her. Ignoring Ashley, who was asking me about some stupid paint, I follow the younger girl into the kitchen. "I got it."

"I want to help, then," I say stubbornly. She just turns her back to me and puts the plates and silverware into the sink. Without looking at me, Arabella turns on the faucet. "Bell..." I murmur, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Why do you think s-something's wrong?" Stutter, stutter, stutter.

I purse my lips. "What's up?"

Arabella doesn't dare look at me when she answers. "Nothing, I just think it's my duty to assist you guys with household duties ." Both of her hands are shaking as she draws a soapy line across one of the plates. I watch her scrub them violently, every slight movement of hers all twitchy.

I take a step towards the young girl, reassuringly placing my hand on the small of her back, quickly pulling it away after noticing that she flinched because of me. "What makes you think that?Don't be foolish. You don't have to do that. You'll love it here, I promise," I tell her, trying to be as reassuring as possible. Arabella freezes in her spot, looking not at all calmed. "Here, why don't you go to your room and relax for a bit? Get comfortable. I'll finish up."

"Uh, no, I'm okay, D-Dad," she whispers, something hitching in her sweet voice.

"Bell-"

"I'm fine," she interrupts coolly. Suddenly, silence falls over us. An awkward, unwelcoming silence.

And to think I thought she was already getting comfortable with me. Guess that's not so true after all.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'll leave you then... and you can either go to your room when you're done or come visit with your mother and I. It's completely your choice; do what feels most comfortable with you, okay?" is all I say before hurrying out of the room. Wow. That was awkward.

I make my way towards the living room, switching off the dining room light before sitting on the opposing loveseat from Ashley. I lift my feet onto the ledge, sprawling myself across the soft padded furniture set. I cross my arms under my head, watching as Ashley scowls and rolls her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" she spits at me darkly.

I just roll my eyes at her "What?"

"You're so irritating. She's gonna be so fucking tired of you in no time," my sorry excuse for a wife tells me. "If she wants to do the dishes, let her."

"I thought we agreed not to argue today? It's Arabella's first day with us and your crabby-ness is already showing!" I spat, sitting up and running  a hand through my brown curls, tugging at the roots. "I won't make her do things like that."

"Hey," I hear Arabella say softly, pulling Ashley and I out of the argument trance. "I dried the dishes and put them away."

That was sure quick.

I can't help but smile when I see her precious little figure make its way over to me. "Thanks, sweetie," I say, shifting around so that she can sit beside me. Arabella shyly does, allowing me to place my arm casually around her shoulder. Surprisingly, this time she doesn't cringe or pull away from me. She mutters a soft reply that I can't quiet make out and smiles this tiny smile.