As if her mind couldn’t stray away, she eventually found her gaze falling onto the back of him. His bony skull turned right and then left slowly, appearing to listen out carefully to the forest surrounding them.
The sun cast his shadow forwards, highlighting the whiteness at the back of his skull to the point it almost seemed to glisten. His horns were twisty and flared up at the base before swiftly pointing backwards, diagonal to the sky.
She no longer found him frightening whatsoever, despite her lingering aversion to him. His consideration and thoughtfulness had begun to chip away at those thoughts, leaving behind the confusing creature she laid her eyes upon.
He was inhuman, that could never be changed. He didn’t look human, and although he had obvious humanity inside him, he wasn’t truly one within either. He wasn’t a human in a monster’s body, his mind was too… beastly for that by his growls and grunts, but the bits of humanity she could see were unravelling her.
I want to hate him. She really did, more than anything, but other than keeping her caged here, there wasn’t much else for her to hate. He didn’t threaten her. He only told her the truth of the dangerous situation she was in. He didn’t hurt her, nor was he mean or cruel.
He tried to make sure to give her foods she would like and water to keep her hydrated. She was so clean she thought she may be the cleanest person in the world considering he bathed her morning and night.
Halfway through her food, she turned her head down to her lap again, but this time pulling at the skirt of the dress she wore. She kept it long to keep the worst of the chill out, even though she’d much rather have it shorter. She didn’t like spinach, so he’d allowed her to take as much as she wanted to boil it and soak this dress in the previous day.
She could tell he wanted to help her. He had lingered just outside the kitchen while she boiled the plants, but he was wary. She constantly felt this from him, especially when he quietly told her she needed to prepare the cloth she was planning to dye in salt so it would actually stick to it.
It was now a pale green with the white barely present.
It wasn’t her preferred colour, but she didn’t really know how to dye clothing using food, and she hadn’t wanted to waste the other plants on a possible failed attempt. The green was patchy, but she was still content with it. She would soak it again tonight and hang it up so that by morning it may be better.
She no longer felt like a fool in a wedding dress, and it brought her overwhelming relief. He allowed it, was allowing anything she wanted, while trying his best to make her content. He constantly asked if she needed something, wanted anything. He’d offered to even try to catch her a fish by the stream if she preferred meat.
The prickling emotion she felt in her chest was unwelcome, knowing it was something akin to tenderness for him. She felt many emotions for the Duskwalker.
Pity in his loneliness. Humour in his lack of understanding of humans. Ease because he wanted to protect her. Frustration at keeping her. Tenderness because he was sweet and kind in his own way.
And finally, nervousness, because bath time had become unsettling for all the wrong reasons.
She was calm about it now, after three days of being washed twice a day, she’d grown accustomed to it. However, her body kept having strange reactions to it, and each time it grew stronger as if her flesh was anticipating the touch.
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.