As soon as the old woman left the room - my room apparently, since nobody else seemed to live in it - my stranger let loose a low growl that had me twitching and trying to sink into my bed. I pressed my body into the mattress and tried once again to pull my hand free, scared that he might turn his anger against me otherwise.
Apparently he didn't like what I was doing, cause as soon as he felt the pull his head snapped into my direction and his grip became so painful I was certain if he squeezed just a little bit stronger my bones might burst. My face was pulled into a painful grimace and I was wondering if he would let go if I begged him to. But I admit, I was a bit anxious, still not sure where I was, nor for what purpose. And who knew what this guy would do should I misbehave?
We stared at each other for a long moment, his expression being intimidating and hard and me just being scared shitless. For a moment I thought he would rip my head off, but instead he just stood and nearly pulled me off the bed at the same time. My muscles ached and I scrunched up my face, but didn't dare to voice my discomfort.
It didn't stay unnoticed though, at least I think the guy noticed, since he picked me up princess style a second later, away from the comfortable bed, away from the warm blanket. It was a lot colder suddenly and I shivered. Realising that it was too cold, it felt like I was left completely unprotected, and when my eyes fell from the strangers face to my own body I saw that I was naked.
A blush creeped up my body and spread from my shoulders to my ears, not leaving any part of my face in my normal light colour. At least my hands were free now and I was able to quickly cover my lower parts, even when I was pretty sure that the person who had undressed me before was non other than the handsome guy carrying me through a door.
Being carried like this wasn't really something I liked, I have to admit. I could care less when Fred threw me over his shoulder and made fun of me, but being in the arms of a complete stranger - a good looking stranger - while having no clothes made me twitch uncomfortably. I can't describe how happy I was when he finally put me back on my feed, but never ceased to touch me with one hand.
Maybe it was some kind of fetish of his, since while I was just standing still he continued to hold onto one of my shoulders, and even when he bend down to open the faucet of a gorgeous big bathtub. Now that I was staring at the white porcelain I noticed that I hadn't even looked around the room yet, so I peeked up and was greeted by more white.
White tiles, white towels, some white flowers as decoration. Somebody must have a serious problem.
It was beautiful in its own, but really strange at the same time. And while my eyes glanced over the white sink I noticed something in the mirror above. I could see two people in it. One unmistakably mister handsome beside me, the other one obviously me, however something seemed wrong.
Not only were my eyes as silver as the last time I had seen my reflection, but my hair also seemed to have turned from blond to white. I used one of my hands to touch it, it felt the same as always, it seemed that just the colour had changed.
"Bath.", the stranger interrupted me and suddenly held onto my hips, picking me up as if I didn't weight anything and sat me down into the tub. Warm water enveloped me and I couldn't suppress a pleased moan. While I did start to enjoy the bath, I still didn't like being watched, nor touched the whole time.
"Could you... Leave me alone while I'm in here? I mean... You could wait in front of the door?"
A shake of the head let me know that he wouldn't just go.
But a good looking one!
"Why am I even here? And who are you?"
"It isn't my place to say."
I think I saw pain on his features for a moment before he took hold of a shampoo bottle and popped it open one handed, to pour some of it over my head. Instinctively I pressed my eyes shut, not wanting any of the soap to hurt them, while my 'caretaker' slathered up my hair, touching me constantly with his free hand on my shoulder.
I relaxed a little as the time went by, and when the shower nozzle was held above my head I decided to try again. Once my hair was free of any residues I blinked and looked up.
"Please tell me what's going on…"
My words were met with silence and I could feel how for the first time I got really scared.
"What is going on here?"
My voice was wavering clearly and I could feel my eyes getting wet with unshed tears.
"Why do I look like this?"
I grabbed my hair, to reinforce my words, to show what I meant. But nothing, nothing at all. No answers, no smile, nothing. Tears were now streaming down my face, making me swallow back a sniffle, as I turned my head down to hide my weakness.
A sponge and a bar of soap was dropped in my lap. I didn't move, at least not at first. Only when the grip around my shoulder tightened evidently did I stir. I cleaned my body, but I didn't feel clean when I was done, I felt dirty somehow, a feeling I can't even describe any closer.
As I was done the foreign hands crawled over my skin and I was lifted up from under my armpits, just to be dropped on my feet a second later. A fluffy towel was thrown over my head, just as white as everything else in this room, just as white as my hair. I stood still, frozen, unwilling to participate in this act, when I wasn't even allowed to know what was happening. My eyes stared at my feet und I followed as drop after drop of water reached the floor and left a puddle right where I stood.
I could hear a light growl in the strangers voice, apparently he was running out of patience. But even when he clenched my shoulder with more force I did not move. I knew I was behaving like a child, stubborn, making everything unnecessarily harder, but I just could not bring myself to do it.
The growl behind me got louder, and I flinched slightly.
"If you won't do it, I will! And I bet you wouldn't want that…"
The thread in mister handsome's voice was evident, as he gave me a few seconds to make my decision. Just as he was about to grip the towel I stopped him, grabbing it harshly and pulling it down to start with my arms. I did not want to comply, honesty, I had tried to pull myself together, but hen I thought about the man touching me in all the different places I had reconsidered.
Slowly dabbing my skin I was in no hurry to satisfy the stranger and it took several minutes till I had reached every part of my body and started with my hair. Strangely enough there was no complain, no 'hurry up' or any attempt of taking over.
Once I was done though, mister handsome took the towel, pushed me to the sink and opened a drawer to pull out a comb. Maybe he was more annoyed with my behaviour than I thought, given that he did not allow me to brush my hair on my own. He had not even given me the chance, just started without a word, till he was pleased with the result.
Wordlessly he led me back into my room and onto my bed, retaking his seat and continued staring at the door. I followed suit, not knowing what else to do, and tried to relax in the oppressing silence. Not like there was the possibility of him answering any of my questions anyway. And I had to admit that I felt strangely save in this room, with this man, with his hand in mine and his occasional squeeze, as if he wanted to reassure me that everything would be fine. Maybe, truly maybe it was just my imagination, and he only twitched from feeling uncomfortable, but at that moment I wished for it to be true.