10. Maya
ten
Maya
" Y ou have to stand, my dear," Asher's silk-like voice says. I steady myself, holding onto his arms. He slides my stockings, skirt, and sweater off.
I can smell the strong aroma of mint coming from the bath, and suddenly, the eyes of the white-haired man cross my mind.
"I don't want to take a mint bath," I whisper. My hands tremble, and I hold onto Asher tightly. He stares at me momentarily, as if trying to read my face, before unplugging and draining the bathtub.
Asher reaches a finger under my chin and raises my face to look at him. he is hunched over, and his eyes are painted with worry.
"What's wrong, dear?"
"It just reminds me of a bad dream that I had recently," I sigh.
He tilts his head, then reaches over and begins to run a new bath. He reaches for a vanilla bubble bath bottle and pours a generous amount into the bathtub.
"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks, glancing back at me. His eyes trace my hands as I slide out of my bra, leaving me bare in front of him. He swallows and watches me like a hawk.
"I was dancing at a ball with a white-haired man," a small vile of vanilla oil crashes to the floor, shattering around us. I look up and see Asher frozen and staring at me. He stands there motionless for a moment before immediately lifting me up off the floor. He begins picking up the glass shards, being careful not to let my bare feet touch the floor.
"I'm sorry, the bottle was slick," he doesn't make eye contact with me. "What happened?''
"He was angry with me. I don't know why, though. Then this other man appeared."
Asher looks up to me, and his usual stoic face is back.
"And?"
"And he saved me," I bring my finger to my mouth and chew on my nails anxiously as the memories return. "At least, I think he did."
"I'll have to thank this mystery man someday," he jokes. He sets me back down and tosses the glass in a nearby trashcan.
"He looked familiar, but I don't know why," I slide my fingers through the waist of my panties and slide them down past my ankles, stepping out of them. Once again, Asher watches my every movement.
"Well," he walks up to me and unclips the small black ribbons from my hair; my hair falls loosely around me. "What did he look like?"
"His tattoos were a lot like yours on your arms. And his hair was like yours. But he wasn't you." The memory of the man's piercing eyes came back to me, and I shivered. I felt I was supposed to be afraid, but I only wanted to reach out to him.
Asher picks me up and helps me into the large bathtub. The bubbles glitter and shine under the candlelight and the soft glow of the morning sun outside. The plants in the bathroom sway gently and hang like vines around the bathroom.
I groan and lean back in the bath.
"He sounds handsome," Asher grins and makes his way to sit behind me. He runs his hands gently over my hair, getting it wet and massaging shampoo on my scalp.
"He was," I agree. Asher clicks his tongue in annoyance and huffs.
Asher rinses my hair and does the same ritual with conditioner. He pulled out a warm vanilla-scented shampoo and conditioner, and the apartment smelled lovely.
"Well, nightmares are just dreams. They have no power over you." He rinses my hair and runs his fingers lazily on my back in circles.
We sat there for what felt like hours until the bath water ran cold, and I was shivering. We talked about little things; I noted what he likes, such as vanilla and his love for dogs. And sometimes, we sat there, not saying anything, just sitting together and listening to each other's breathing.
"Come on, you'll catch a cold if you stay in there all day." Asher grabs a large white fluffy towel and offers me a hand.
I step out, and he wraps me up before lifting and settling me on his left arm.
"Well, little one, you should take the day to enjoy yourself." He sets me on a nearby chair and begins digging through my dresser. "I'm going out to grab some things."
Asher pulls out a white skirt and a black turtleneck. He lays them on the dresser before pulling out a pair of black thigh-high socks. He turns and hands the small stack of clothes to me.
Disappointment crosses my heart, and I puff my bottom lip out.
"What, my dear?" He reaches his finger under my chin and tilts my head up. "You want Daddy to help you?"
I feel my face heat up with embarrassment and can't find the words.
"Use your words," he brings his face dangerously close to mine, and my heart races.
"Can you help me?" I say quickly, shutting my eyes. He chuckled and grabbed the towel from me.
"Stand," he commands. I stand up, and he helps me step into my panties and skirt. I can feel his eyes on every inch of my body, and my skin feels like fire. He slides my sweater over my head and sits me back in the chair.
"Thank you," I mumble.
Asher hums in response, grabs my ankle, and settles it on his thigh. His hands dwarf my feet, and I can't help but stare at his hands as they run over my skin. He slides a stocking up to my thigh, his fingers hovering just a moment too long, before continuing to put on the other stocking. When he finishes, he places a gentle kiss on the top of my foot.
I look at myself proudly in the far-off mirror.
Asher suddenly spins the chair around and squeezes my hair with the towel. He grabs a nearby brush and brushes through it gently.
"You know when I was younger," he trails off. "We never celebrated the holidays."
I gasped and turned to him, shocked.
He motions his finger at me, and I turn back around. He continues to brush through my hair.
"My father never believed in Christmas and the festivities." Asher pulls my hair back on one side in an intricate pattern before clipping it up with a white ribboned bow. "Said that presents and festivities were only celebrating the devil." Asher chuckled and pinned my hair on the other side, the same as the first.
"The devil?" I look back at him.
He smiles warmly at me. "Yes. Krampus was viewed very differently in my home."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Asher hesitates for a moment. "I've always grown up thinking that Krampus and Saint Nicholas were gods and the devil was fighting for the last remaining souls."
"I don't think Krampus is the devil." Asher's hands freeze on my head, and he looks at me, slightly stunned. He searches my eyes.
"Maybe one day you'll see him differently, dear." He rubs my temple with his thumb and grabs his things. "I'm heading out to grab some things. Write down anything you need, and I'll grab it."
I nodded at him and raced over to a small notepad that I kept on the fridge. I scribbled a small list on it and handed it to him. He left with only a warm smile and then disappeared down the narrow stairs and out the shop's front door.
A sinking feeling came over me.
Did I say something that upset him?