Post by Germany on Jun 4, 2011 4:41:11 GMT -5
Neither child liked the idea of Ludwig bathing them. Both insisted that they were quite capable of doing it themselves, that they used to take baths alone all the time before being locked away in the ghetto and had gotten clean as a whistle. Cleaner than a whistle, even. And they’d always left the bathroom spic-and-span when they were done, and there was no reason at all for any adult supervision because they could manage just fine.
Ludwig hadn’t bought it. Children were just that, and children had a tendency to not take things seriously enough, to not pay close enough attention to what they were doing, to not care about hygiene, and to miss spots when cleaning. He rarely spent much time around them, but what little he had seen had made his stomach churn with nausea. Especially the hands: he had yet to meet a child with truly clean, sanitary hands. They were always covered in some kind of dirt, or food, or some unknown sticky substance, or worse. And the fingernails…god, the fingernails…just thinking about it made him cringe. Tiny, crusty bits of literally everything and anything could be found hiding beneath a child’s fingernails. And it was these hands — these sticky, grimy, filthy little hands that served as host to a ton of viruses and bacteria — that plunged fingers-first into freshly-baked pies, cakes, bread….
No.
Just…no.
Arik and Nessa were fresh from a filthy, disease-ridden ghetto — no way he was going to leave such an important task in their hands, no matter how capable they claimed to be. Far healthier for all three of them for him to make sure the job was done right.
His insistence on taking them back one at a time and washing them up himself, however, had launched both of them into a small panic. Neither wanted to be separated from the other, even for a few minutes. They were far too afraid of him to get defiant, but their pleas rent at his heart, caused him to cave in from the inside out. Now they sat in front of him in the tub, undressed, fresh, warm water rising up around their bodies.
Giving the brother-sister pair a curt command to stay put, Ludwig left them alone for a few seconds to get a washcloth and a cup. He returned to find them soaking comfortably in the water, more at ease than he had ever seen them before. Neither was smiling but their eyes gave them away — there was glimmer of hope in them which hadn’t been present before.
Glad that they had calmed down a little, and that the warm water was having a soothing effect on them as well as a hygienic one, Ludwig knelt by the edge of the tub and filled the cup with running water.
Arik watched him curiously. “Whatcha gonna do with that?”
“Wash your hair.” Ludwig replied coolly, moving the full cup over the boy’s head and pouring its contents. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo sitting beside him, he dumped a generous amount into the wet, tangled dark-brown mop in front of him and began gently massaging the milky cleansing liquid into Arik’s scalp with his fingertips, doing his best not to think about just what the hell was in this kid’s hair to make it both sticky and greasy to the touch.
For a five-year-old, Arik was amazingly quiet and still. He barely moved at all.
The tub was full enough now. Setting the cup on the floor, Ludwig wetted the washcloth under the faucet before turning the water off. Utter silence fell over the room as he smeared the washcloth with bar soap and worked up a lather.
Odd.
Normally Ludwig didn’t mind silence — it was better than constant annoying, pointless chatter by far — but something about this silence didn’t feel quite right. Arik and Nessa were both watching him closely, tiny flames of hope still leaping in their eyes, neither saying a word nor twitching a muscle.
Children shouldn’t be so quiet and listless. It was unnatural.
But then, he reminded himself, these weren’t ordinary children. These children had been separated from their parents and family, starved, beaten, and denied access to comfortable shelter and sanitation these past couple of weeks, during which time they had also witnessed cruelty, suffering, and death on a grand scale. They were worried about their parents and worried about the intentions of the big, frightening SS Nazi that had had taken them away from the train station to question them about said parents. It was good that they were feeling a little more hopeful, but he couldn’t really blame them if they still didn’t feel comfortable enough to move around or speak much in his presence. After all, he wasn’t exactly sending off a comforting vibe, and their experience in the ghetto had probably destroyed most of their optimism along with their trust and faith in humankind as a whole.
He moved the soapy washcloth in for Arik’s face. “Close your eyes.”
Arik squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his whole face scrunching with the effort.
Okay, that’s a bit overkill kid, but I’ll work with it. Ludwig rubbed him down thoroughly, being as gentle as he could in wiping every trace of dirt and grime off almond-tinted skin. The boy flinched when he tilted his chin up, but otherwise remained still and compliant.
He was done washing and in the process of running fresh water into his cup when Arik asked “Can I open my eyes yet, Herr Herrmann?”
“Not unless you want soap in them,” Ludwig said matter-of-factly, “I haven’t rinsed you yet.” The cup filled, and he splashed Arik in the face. He repeated the action once more before switching to the boy’s hair, pale fingers running through dark locks as he rinsed to help move all the shampoo and nastiness out.
Wow. With his hair and face cleaned up, Arik looked almost like another child.
A/N: Wow. Short update, and not the best place to leave off. I’m going through a major writing slump right now, but as I had already had part of this written I decided to build it up a little more and pop it out there before heading off to the beach tomorrow ( technically it IS tomorrow for me, and I’m up a little too late, but eh, who needs sleep? ), just to give my loyal readers something new, since it’s been too long since I updated this.
By the way, it’s almost impossible to write anything ( even OOC stuff ) with a song stuck in your head. At least, for me it is. Hopefully some time at the beach will cure me.
Um…yeah. I’ll try to make updates on this a little more frequent. ^^;
Ludwig hadn’t bought it. Children were just that, and children had a tendency to not take things seriously enough, to not pay close enough attention to what they were doing, to not care about hygiene, and to miss spots when cleaning. He rarely spent much time around them, but what little he had seen had made his stomach churn with nausea. Especially the hands: he had yet to meet a child with truly clean, sanitary hands. They were always covered in some kind of dirt, or food, or some unknown sticky substance, or worse. And the fingernails…god, the fingernails…just thinking about it made him cringe. Tiny, crusty bits of literally everything and anything could be found hiding beneath a child’s fingernails. And it was these hands — these sticky, grimy, filthy little hands that served as host to a ton of viruses and bacteria — that plunged fingers-first into freshly-baked pies, cakes, bread….
No.
Just…no.
Arik and Nessa were fresh from a filthy, disease-ridden ghetto — no way he was going to leave such an important task in their hands, no matter how capable they claimed to be. Far healthier for all three of them for him to make sure the job was done right.
His insistence on taking them back one at a time and washing them up himself, however, had launched both of them into a small panic. Neither wanted to be separated from the other, even for a few minutes. They were far too afraid of him to get defiant, but their pleas rent at his heart, caused him to cave in from the inside out. Now they sat in front of him in the tub, undressed, fresh, warm water rising up around their bodies.
Giving the brother-sister pair a curt command to stay put, Ludwig left them alone for a few seconds to get a washcloth and a cup. He returned to find them soaking comfortably in the water, more at ease than he had ever seen them before. Neither was smiling but their eyes gave them away — there was glimmer of hope in them which hadn’t been present before.
Glad that they had calmed down a little, and that the warm water was having a soothing effect on them as well as a hygienic one, Ludwig knelt by the edge of the tub and filled the cup with running water.
Arik watched him curiously. “Whatcha gonna do with that?”
“Wash your hair.” Ludwig replied coolly, moving the full cup over the boy’s head and pouring its contents. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo sitting beside him, he dumped a generous amount into the wet, tangled dark-brown mop in front of him and began gently massaging the milky cleansing liquid into Arik’s scalp with his fingertips, doing his best not to think about just what the hell was in this kid’s hair to make it both sticky and greasy to the touch.
For a five-year-old, Arik was amazingly quiet and still. He barely moved at all.
The tub was full enough now. Setting the cup on the floor, Ludwig wetted the washcloth under the faucet before turning the water off. Utter silence fell over the room as he smeared the washcloth with bar soap and worked up a lather.
Odd.
Normally Ludwig didn’t mind silence — it was better than constant annoying, pointless chatter by far — but something about this silence didn’t feel quite right. Arik and Nessa were both watching him closely, tiny flames of hope still leaping in their eyes, neither saying a word nor twitching a muscle.
Children shouldn’t be so quiet and listless. It was unnatural.
But then, he reminded himself, these weren’t ordinary children. These children had been separated from their parents and family, starved, beaten, and denied access to comfortable shelter and sanitation these past couple of weeks, during which time they had also witnessed cruelty, suffering, and death on a grand scale. They were worried about their parents and worried about the intentions of the big, frightening SS Nazi that had had taken them away from the train station to question them about said parents. It was good that they were feeling a little more hopeful, but he couldn’t really blame them if they still didn’t feel comfortable enough to move around or speak much in his presence. After all, he wasn’t exactly sending off a comforting vibe, and their experience in the ghetto had probably destroyed most of their optimism along with their trust and faith in humankind as a whole.
He moved the soapy washcloth in for Arik’s face. “Close your eyes.”
Arik squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his whole face scrunching with the effort.
Okay, that’s a bit overkill kid, but I’ll work with it. Ludwig rubbed him down thoroughly, being as gentle as he could in wiping every trace of dirt and grime off almond-tinted skin. The boy flinched when he tilted his chin up, but otherwise remained still and compliant.
He was done washing and in the process of running fresh water into his cup when Arik asked “Can I open my eyes yet, Herr Herrmann?”
“Not unless you want soap in them,” Ludwig said matter-of-factly, “I haven’t rinsed you yet.” The cup filled, and he splashed Arik in the face. He repeated the action once more before switching to the boy’s hair, pale fingers running through dark locks as he rinsed to help move all the shampoo and nastiness out.
Wow. With his hair and face cleaned up, Arik looked almost like another child.
________________________________________
A/N: Wow. Short update, and not the best place to leave off. I’m going through a major writing slump right now, but as I had already had part of this written I decided to build it up a little more and pop it out there before heading off to the beach tomorrow ( technically it IS tomorrow for me, and I’m up a little too late, but eh, who needs sleep? ), just to give my loyal readers something new, since it’s been too long since I updated this.
By the way, it’s almost impossible to write anything ( even OOC stuff ) with a song stuck in your head. At least, for me it is. Hopefully some time at the beach will cure me.
Um…yeah. I’ll try to make updates on this a little more frequent. ^^;