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(a/n: let's take some time to appreciate how cute marcy is here)
BONNIBEL HOLLERS AT the seemingly-clueless lifeguard, her hands pulling the kid from the teenage girl with a force that could rival a beast's.
"What the glob are you doing?!" With a huff, she sets the terrified kid down, who hastily waddles away awkwardly, as if trying not to burst into a sprint. The lifeguard watches him go, looking a little...disappointed?
"Why were you holding him by his neck?!" Bonnibel demands, flinging her arms about. What an absurd thing she never thought she'd see — a lifeguard holding a child by the neck!
"Is that not how I'm supposed to hold kids?" The lifeguard, in her attractive, red, slim-fitting one-piece swimsuit, cutely tilts her head to the side, genuinely puzzled.
Bonnibel openly gapes. What was her deal? Has she never held a child before? And even if she hadn't, what made her think that she could pick kids up like that–
It had honestly looked like she had been strangling him.
"For a lifeguard, you sure know astonishingly little about your job," Bonnibel sighs exasperatedly.
She came to the neighbourhood swimming complex quite often, given that she was usually damage control (the damage being Finn and Jake — both have the tendency to be extremely unpredictable if left unchecked) and she had never met a lifeguard quite like the girl in front of her.
Bonnibel looks back at her, properly taking in the lifeguard's confident aura, the genuine bewilderment colouring her pale face, and the sun hat adorning her head, which casted her sharp features in shadow. She almost loses her breath again. How can this stranger be so striking in Bonnibel's eyes?
"Oh–" the lifeguard blinks, her eyes widening as if in realisation, "–is he your kid? Sorry!"
Now, Bonnibel's losing her breath for a whole different reason.
"Glob, no!" Bonnibel scoffs, the idea of being a teenage mother entirely off-putting to her. She definitely didn't have the time to look after a kid of her own. "He ran off! How do I look like his mother to you? Are you dim-witted?"
Perhaps that was a little too harsh.
The lifeguard regards her with an unreadable glint in her eye. She gives Bonnibel a once-over, a little smirk on her face, and Bonnibel feels a tad bit self-conscious under that dark gaze, but she wills herself to hold her stare.
"Well, what are you wearing? I hardly believe that you're a teen," the lifeguard smirks, waving her hand over Bonnibel's yellow patterned tee, white shorts, knee-high socks, and pink sneakers.
That struck a nerve. How dare she ridicule her fashion sense? Her outfit was cute.
"I'm lodging a complaint," Bonnibel enunciates, to make sure that detestable, no-good lifeguard heard her every word. The lifeguard seemed amused, undeterred at best, and Bonnibel prayed that she couldn't see the blush tainting her cheeks.
