[PUNCH CLOCK ANIMAL] ASHTRAY

[skinstealer]

The food arrives not too shortly after, Bucket shooting the waiter a very apologetic look in advance. The waiter shoots a look back, more embarrassed for Bucket and Chelsea than anything else. Matthias starts poking at his massive steak platter, sizing it up before tearing off a small chunk with his claws and popping it directly into his mouth.

Bucket gives Chelsea a nudge, smiling at her and prompting her to try the soup. The karacel gives them a weird look back before taking a careful sip of the broth, getting a proper chunk of meat in the next bite. She doesn't say much, avoiding eye contact the entire time.
Bucket dips into their plate with a fork, trying to avoid being the one who breaks the silence.



Without warning, Matthias stretches, bringing his knee up to hit the bottom of the table- shaking it and spilling soup all over Chelsea.

 
BUCKET: Chelsea!
 

Chelsea scoots away from them with a hiss, completely panicked.
 

BUCKET: What a mess.... please allow me to patch you up. 

 
Bucket reaches for her shoulder, only to be frantically pushed away. Chelsea growls something through gritted teeth, unintelligible.
 

BUCKET: Please relax. 

 
Bucket places their hand down, careful. 
 

BUCKET: I just need a moment.
CHELSEA: F-fucker did it on purpose.

 
Bucket nods. 
  

BUCKET: We'll deal with it later.
BUCKET: Are there severe burns?
CHELSEA: He did it on purpose. 
 

She glares at the dog across the table with an unfamiliar look of hate in her eyes. 
 

CHELSEA: Fuck the burns.

 
Bucket lowers their voice. 
    

BUCKET: Wait until we're outside. 
BUCKET: I'm going to take care of you first. 
 
 

Bucket’s hand starts to crackle against Chelsea’s shoulder, pain starting to slowly drain away.
 

CHELSEA: I ain't waiting for shit. 

 
Chelsea shakes them off, pointing at Matthias. 
 

CHELSEA: You think you're some hot shit- 
 
 

 
MATTHIAS: Oh, it speaks. 

Matthias exhales a ring of smoke, snickering. 

  
MATTHIAS: How fun.

Bucket reaches for Chelsea’s hand. 
 

BUCKET: Please not here, I don't want to see you get hurt more...
CHELSEA: He's just gonna keep fucking with us. 

 
She yanks her hand away after a brief moment of hesitation. 
 

CHELSEA: And I'm not gonna sit here and take it. 
MATTHIAS: Are we causing a ruckus, then?

 
Bucket reaches out again. 
 

BUCKET: If you insist on retaliation .... allow me to bite the bullet and take the fall for this.
BUCKET: I'll get off easier.
 

 
Chelsea bares her teeth at them, something she hasn't done in years. Bucket’s visibly stung, but despite this, they still try to hold her hand.  
  

BUCKET: I don't want you to be punished. 
BUCKET: Please. 
BUCKET: If you really need this, let me make the move here.

 


Chelsea squeezes her eyes shut before getting a grip, shaking off whatever came over her.
 

CHELSEA: ...no, no, I'm...I'm okay. Fuck.