It was intimate. The room was always dim with just enough candlelight to keep away the worst of the shadows while pleasant smelling dried herbs were burnt like incense to create a relaxing environment. The water was always perfectly warm, and the heat did wonders to soften her muscles.
Yet, her skin would tingle as his gloves ran over her as he washed her perfunctorily – like he was doing nothing but washing clothes or dishes. It should have felt abhorrent, yet her nipples would strain for a stroke, her clit would throb after a touch.
It was mild, but still unsettling.
I’m totally not attracted to him. She fisted her hands before grabbing her spoon to dig into the blueberries with anger.
His touch was delicate. He’d begun to wear only his button-down shirt during it so that he didn’t wet the sleeves of his jacket – although he wore it the rest of the time. It highlighted a human-shaped chest of muscle and a waist that tucked in sharply to narrow hips.
It also allowed her to see that black fur poked out from the high collar around his neck, but it didn’t appear to go much further down his body since it didn’t poke out from other areas. She was beginning to wonder what he looked like underneath all that clothing he was hiding behind, and she blushed deeply in embarrassment.
She was ashamed because it was out of thrilling curiosity, rather than discovering the true horror of a monster.
A monster whose deep, growly voice was soothing and tingly to her senses. And she was beginning to enjoy watching his glowing orbs change colours.
Different shades of yellow. The deeper blue than normal.
Red was the most common change and something she tried to avoid as much as possible. Only twice she’d seen them turn purple. She wondered what emotions they portrayed, and how to get them to change to other colours – like green, or orange, or even pink if they did.
His eyes were somehow... prettier in the dark. She would always know where he was and, in his own way, he was ethereal to look at. Not handsome, he didn’t have a human face to be granted such a word.
But, now that she was growing comfortable enough around him, she found he had a sort of enchanting lure about the way he looked. An other-worldly beauty.
Even now, watching him sitting on the other side of the garden in the sunlight made that odd beauty shine from him.
Come on, Reia. He has a fucking skull for a face. She kept questioning why she didn’t find him totally unappealing. Is it because I don’t totally hate his touch? She knew it had to be because she’d never been touched before. That’s what she kept telling herself.
Great. I’m a god damn pervert.
She thought she might find it that much worse when she planned to ask him tonight to not use his gloves.
She wanted the protection of having her scent hidden for the entire day. She didn’t want him to bathe her twice a day, but rather once. Minimising their time of it, she hoped, would help. It can’t be that much different with his gloves off. Maybe the horrors of seeing his real hands would disturb her enough to quell her emotions.
Reia was just making sure she would be prepared for when he finally left her to go hunting. He may leave her for longer if he didn’t have to return to bathe her, and that would give her more time to put distance between herself and this damn house before he returned.
The quicker she earned his trust, the sooner that would be. She would run as far as she could, and hopefully he would never be able to find her so she could be free.
Orpheus’ vision eventually faded from having yellow at the edges to its usual blue, but the lingering feeling of delight remained in his chest long afterward. She drank the tea I made for her. He knew if he had a human face with skin, he’d be beaming with a grin.
He continued to listen to the world and sensed no Demons for the moment. They occasionally came close by, but they left, paying him no mind. They didn’t like loitering around his home since they knew he would attack them if they got too close to it – whether he was housing a human or not.
I wonder what kind of chair she would like. If she’d prefer something with a back, or just a plain stool to have outside.
Maybe I should ask her. A flare of excitement was lit in his belly, hoping if he continued to make things for her, do things for her, she would grow to like him.
He would change everything about his home, make a new bed for her if she wanted it, string new ornaments with her preferred designs in mind, if it would make her content with him.
There was even a place he’d like to take her, somewhere very dangerous for a human, but he would make sure she was safe and protected as long as it meant she was able to pick things she wanted for herself. Items she could bring back here so she could decorate his home for herself.
It was foolish. He was being foolish, but Reia was different.
The reason there were so few Demons loitering around his home was because there was no scent of fear from her. It
was completely gone.
She ate her meals in his presence, drank his tea, sat in the seat he’d made her outside. The protection trinket she’d made currently hung above where he slept, and he’d stared at it over the past two nights in wonder that a human had made something for him.
And she speaks with me. He’d never had one of his offerings conversate so frequently with him. She asks me questions about myself. And she didn’t seem to be disturbed by his answers.
He felt... he felt like he didn’t have to hide the truth from her so much. She knew he’d been violent to her kind in the past, and yet she didn’t turn away from such conversations in distress or disgust.
Now that her scent was no longer tainted by the sweetness of fear, he’d come to adore the way she smelled.
He found himself often being closer to her than he should, just to be able to deeply take it in.
And her hair looks like pure streaks of sunlight. It even glittered in the sunlight, just as bright and dazzling. Her eyes were such a deep forestry green that he’d found himself starting to become lost in them, like a wandering traveller who’d lost their way, when she stared at him.
She looks at me, rather than shying away. She’s smiled at me, and he couldn’t stop the way his heart pounded at seeing it. And her laughter, even though just as rare, was the sweetest song.
They remained outside until the sun faded, and although it had been hours, his desire to protect her kept him rooted in place without complaint. If she liked being outside so much, then he would do this duty every day without protest.
He hoped one day she would allow him to be seated next to her and allow him to gaze at her while they did this.
I want to lay my head in her lap.
He’d always felt a deep sense of loneliness around the others, but even now, with the small distance between
