Mr Batter?

Haircuts and Heartmelts

Salem slinked out of her bedroom where The Batter was laying, staring at the couch with disgust. Ew. She pitter-pattered into the kitchen, opening the fridge and slamming it after grabbing some water. Next, she walked into the bathroom, wrinkling her nose at the smell (it smelled like horse piss) and making a note to clean it next, grabbing some antiseptic alcohol and dish detergent. She threw the couch cushions into the washing machine, dumped some antiseptic alcohol in it, and then some dish detergent. Then she placed a tide pod on top as an afterthought. Salem let out an exhausted sigh, forcing the washing machine lid down and turning it up on the highest setting. She walked into the bathroom with the medical alcohol and dumped it in the bathtub, spraying it out on the highest setting and sitting down on the toilet lid with her head in her hands after it was done. It was around 3 am, and she felt like her bones were melting when she wasn't moving. She idolized her mother now, realizing how much she suffered these long nights and days taking care of her. She wasn't supposed to do this, be taking care of someone, but she didn't care. She liked this newcomer. He thought she was pure, thought she was worthy. That means she amounted to something more than a struggling 8 year old forced to mature before she was ready. It was comforting. She pulled the couch cushions out of the washing machine and threw them into the drier, setting it on the fastest setting and staring at the cushion-less couch. Below the cushions was truly a mess, so she got a paper towel, a broom, and a dustpan, and started dusting all the crumbs and lint and coins and things into the dustpan. When she was done, she felt happy with herself. She was cleaning. She'd never truly cleaned anything besides her room  before and it was very rewarding. The drier made a loud buzz noise, indicating it was finished, and she ran over to it, dragging the large cushions out (which made her look like an ant carrying a crumb) and putting them on the love-seat that was long enough to be a couch one by one.

Suddenly, her bedroom door opened, and a very shaggy-haired Batter appeared. "Your up early." She said, sounding monotone. He grunted, stomping to the kitchen and drinking tap water. Not very sophisticated. Apparently, he wasn't from America.
Or France, because now it was confusing.

"Come back to bed." Salem chirped, pulling him away from the sink and forcing him to lay back  down. She patted his head awkwardly. "There. Now your all comfy. Just don't wet my bed or I'll shank you." She smiles, almost unaware of how violent sounding she was just then.

She crawled in the bed beside him, placing a pillow barrier in between them. She was still uncomfortable being around men with her gaurd down. She was still covered in blood, but she didn't care. She was so tired. Her body seemed to deflate as she got closer and closer to nodding off. The last thing she remembers is the air conditioner coming on before falling asleep.

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When she wakes up, she's vaguely aware of someone beside her, and another body pressed against hers. She feels comforted for a moment, snuggles into the strong grip. But then she feels his chest against her back, and her face turns into a visible mix of fear and disgust in a split second. She bucks her leg, sending it straight into his groin, and flies off the bed at the speed of light.

Batter lets out an audible groan of pain and promptly asks what she did that for. It takes her young brain a few minutes to remember the 2 sleepless nights before waking up today, and when she does, she relaxes.

"I was afraid." She begins, sitting cross legged on the floor. Her hair is a mess, and it sticks out in mats. She hasn't had a bath in days, but Batter doesn't seem to mind.

"I've had a bad history with people of your gender." She states, holding her head in her hands. "It just hasn't worked out well for me." She lifts her head up and flashes a childish grin that seems more sad and tired than blissfully unaware. Batter is still in a small amount of pain, but he seems relatively interested. "I'm going to go take a shower and then I'm taking you to get your hair cut. You look like a scooby doo character with an STD."