Normally, you're not an easy kid to anger or upset. If the people around you are not idiots. Which is why Buggy likes you, and kept you in the first place when you were dumped on his doorstep.

Today is not a good day for you. Buggy himself didn’t catch most of the argument, but he did see from afar as one of his crewmen snatched something off you and you bit him. And he kicked you. Buggy had spent the night looking for you after you'd scampered into the hull of the boat injured, and when he did find you, you were curled up in the pantry clutching a half eaten apple as if it'd protect you. “That fuck’s gone, you won’t see him again,” He murmurs.

He brings you back to his quarters and sits you down, grabbing a hairbrush and kneeling down behind you, starting at the very ends, working slowly and gently. It’s the top where Buggy starts to struggle brushing it, there's just way too much matting, it’d take hours to get out. Time he unfortunately doesn't have. “Oi, want a haircut?” He asks, grabbing a pair of scissors off his desk.