Misha stuffed candies into his mouth, so much so that his little cheeks bulged like a squirrel's. While chewing, the child stared at his sticky fingers with a complicated gaze. He wanted to wash them, but it was hard to do so in a car. Unless he took his bottle of water and poured it on his hands, that's it. And that would undoubtedly result in a mess, so Misha quickly put the thought aside.

The boy pondered over the problem for a second, then shook his head. He didn't want to ask his father, who was driving, to stop somewhere just to wash his hands, not when they were on the highway.

In the corner of his mind, he was afraid that this simple request would anger his father to death and result in a tragedy.

Since his transmigration back in time, that man had been showering him with love in his own way, but all Misha could remember from his father was his irascible temperament after his mother's death. In his past life, he had learned not to ask for anything at the risk of being severely beaten up. The only time he dared to do so was when Gabriel was in the vicinity. Otherwise, his lips were closed tight.

Despite the few requests Misha had already made in the past month, it was still difficult for him to open his mouth – of course, this, he would never admit it aloud, not even over his dead body. In his mind, he was a strong man who feared nothing, including that father of his.

But the sticky feeling was very uncomfortable, and he didn't want to bear with it.

Soon, an idea came to his mind, and a sweet smile stretched his lips. The child glanced at Gabriel, who was sitting on his left. The teenage boy was gazing at the scenery through the car window, an absent look on his face. It made him appear somehow melancholic, and with the morning light that gently shone on his face, the sight seemed to come straight from a magazine.

In other words, the teenage boy had a handsome side profile, but Misha could care less about it. No matter how gorgeous that man was, Misha would find his face pleasing to the eyes only if a few cuts and bruises were added to the picture, like a busted lip or a broken nose.

Without a word, Misha slowly stretched out his hands before carefully wiping them off on Gabriel's shirt.

An almost imperceptible frown appeared between the teenager's eyebrows, and Gabriel asked with a low voice as he turned his head toward the naughty boy, "Misha, what are you doing?"

"Wiping my hands clean?" answered the boy, matter-of-factly.

"With my shirt?"

"With your shirt," nodded Misha, his small face overly serious.

"And… are your hands clean now?"

"Hm, not really…"

Sitting on his right, Masha couldn't help but chuckle and poke the child's puffed cheeks a few times. His pouting expression was too cute for words. She then asked, "Mom, do you have wet tissue?"

"Of course," answered Mrs. Brown, who was reading a cooking book on the passenger seat. She bent down and rummaged through the glove box before taking out a pack of wet tissues. "Here you go," she gently said as she handed it to her daughter.

"Thanks." Masha swiftly tore the package and took a wet tissue. She looked at her little brother with tender eyes as she said, "Misha, give me your hands. I will clean them. "

"You know, I can do it myself," mumbled the child, a bit embarrassed and frustrated at the same time.

The two women of his family didn't only pamper him to death, but they also treated him like a three-year-old kid. After interacting with them for two months, he had discovered this harsh reality, and he didn't know how to handle it. It was as if they thought he couldn't do anything by himself, making him wonder if they knew that he was almost ten years old – his birthday was in less than three months.

"Yes, yes, I know. Now, be a good boy and give me your hands."

'For f.u.c.k's sake, I'm not a baby that only knows how to shit and cry!' Misha shed silent tears, wondering what went wrong with his sister and mother. Their overprotecting tendencies were getting worse and worse day by day, making him despair a little.

Still, Misha didn't say anything and complied with Masha's wishes, thinking, 'As long as you're happy…'

Once Masha was done wiping his fingers one by one, she nodded, quite satisfied. Her brother's little hands were now soft and smooth to the touch.

Then, she threw the used wet tissue in a plastic bag before turning her head back to the window to admire the scenery. Since they were going to the Parc national d'Oka for their camping trip, the itinerary Alexey choose first followed the Lake Ontario, then the St. Lawrence River, which offered a beautiful sight.

However, Misha couldn't see it at all. Not only because he was too small, but also because he sat between Gabriel and Masha whose head partially hid the window. Even if he stretched his neck, it was to no avail, yet he didn't complain and didn't regret sitting between them.

Whenever the child could, he made sure to separate them, and that included when they climbed into the car. Anyway, Misha had the perfect excuse to sit between the two; he had the smallest b.u.t.t, so of course, he should sit in the middle where it was the most cramped. Contrary to the teenagers, he wouldn't feel squeezed at all. His legs had just enough space, and since the teenagers weren't fat and stayed close to the window, they didn't flatten the child between their two bodies.

Still, the rid to the national park would take a bit more than five hours, and sitting still for so long wasn't comfortable. Once every one hour and a half, Alexey stopped the car to let them stretch their legs for a few minutes.

In the beginning, Misha played some road trip games with his sister and Gabriel, but he was soon bored. Moreover, the games often required to use his brain, so it made his head throb a little. In the end, the child decided to take a nap to pass the time. The rocking motion of the car made him sleepy, anyway.

Thus, Misha slept. Along the way, his head fell on Gabriel's shoulder, making the teenager glanced at the sleeping child. He didn't push him away and didn't even dare to move an inch for fear of waking him up.

When asleep, the boy looked like a little angel, and Gabriel didn't want to destroy the illusion. As long as the little devil slept, he wouldn't suffer in his hands.

'Let see what this brat will do during the camping trip. He has a whole week to show off his creativity, so I better be on guard,' silently sighed Gabriel as he refocused his attention on the scenery. If only Misha could be well behaved, the camping trip would be pleasant and a great experience. However, the teenage boy knew it was a pipe dream. That kid certainly wouldn't behave, much less leave him alone.

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Author's note

This is happening on Valentine's Day.

MC: Gaby! Here for you! *Give him heart-shaped chocolate. *

ML: Did you put worms in it?

MC: I didn't!

ML: *Stares*

MC: But I kind of mixed up the sugar and salt.

ML: *Sigh* I wonder what it will be next year.

MC: Dunno. But in a few years, I will be able to buy laxative ~

ML: ….