Soul Bonded [Claude De Alger Obelia x reader ]

65. Bond deeper than blood

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

"Are you trying to punch a hole in my skull?" Claude asked blankly.

Thud!

You laughed, bringing your clenched fist on his forehead with a solid thump. "I'm trying my best to be gentle, your Majesty!"

Thud!

Somehow you ended up in doing it; abiding to his order. You didn't want to but you did half-hearted, still perplexed over his strange behaviour.

But when he threatened Athy to sing lullaby for him, your ire rose to the point you end up smacking his head.

"Sleep tight, child. Moons and stars...." Athy's soulless yet soothing singing filled the tiny space, only served to amplify your angry.

Poor Athy. You wanted to hug her but Claude wasn't budging his head from your lap thus you were forced to stay still and continue smacking him to get out your frustrations.

Thud!

Claude clicked his tongue, unfazed by your 'gentle' massage. "You're doing fine job doubling my headache. Can't you do it properly like you used to."

"I don't have the best memory, your Majesty." You said. "Are you going to apply said 'hundreds ways of making someone remember by force' on me?"

"No," Claude muttered faintly, eyes shut close. "Why would I?"

Your movements fluttered as you stared at him for few seconds before resuming. This time your movements noticably losing its aggression.

"Should I stop since it's not helping with your headache?" Please, say yes.

"No."

Goddammit. Stubborn bastard!

Thud!

"Sleep tight, my child..." Athy's sang monotonously, swaying side by side in cutely manner.

You sent her helpless look. You would lying if you said you weren't enjoying her sweet, child-like voice singing in soothing manner, mimicking Lily's way of singing. You just wished it was in different, more normal circumstances instead forced into it.

And the said culprit was soundly relaxing on your lap, eyes closed while hands sprawled on his chest lazily, his legs crossed at ankles with a pensive, indifferent attitude.

You were peeved how effortlessly handsome he was. God, you wished you could give him a bruise or two to make him less irresistibly good-looking.

Thud!

What is his forehead made of?!

Stone?! Marble?!

Your hand was starting to hurt.

"Your punches are becoming more violent." Claude remarked carelessly, showing no sign of being bothered by your smacks.

"The offer to stop still stands." You said annoyed, rolling your eyes at his persistence.

"Or you can start massaging for real."

You resisted the urge to stick out your tongue. Like hell you would. "I'm not a professional massager, unfortunately. This is the best I can do."

When he knew he wasn't getting his way, he sighed. The exhaustion and defeat in his sigh made you guilty.

Stupid, sensitive heart!