>>6130577The last bit of hope dies in you as she utters her next word, “No,” limply, you let go of her wrist, and unluckily, she takes this as a dismissal and continues her calculated march to the wall of faucets and buckets. Why did you not insist on heading to the private washroom? Dammit, all, you’re stuck here now! So, with about the same amount of reluctance as a cat heading towards a bath or thief to the gallows, you walk towards the locker left open for you. First comes your waistcoat, then your boots, oh, and your gloves, and then every tiny piece of clothing you can remove without revealing much skin. You allow yourself one last look at Alyssa as she washes before looking back and sighing. Let’s just say the towel comes on very quickly after that.
You noticed that Alyssa washed with her towel on, and you loathe to not do the same. Still, you’re knowledgeable enough to give yourself a nice scrub with the nice-smelling soaps provided. Ones that come from a strange bottle that you need to press down the top of. For you, washing is a rather long and elegant process, doubly so given the length of your hair and limbs, which are both longer than many. However, you do notice that Alyssa’s almost reaches your length when undone. It’s not nearly as silky or smooth as yours, for truly, you have no equal, but well, it is rather pretty.
You see her softy smile as she sits next to you, “Thank you,” She says. Ah, you must have said that aloud, “Your hair is beautiful as well,” Then she gets a thoughtful look in her eyes, “Do you acquire assistance washing it? That is a duty of a maid, am I correct?”
“No!” You say a bit too forcefully, “I mean- It can be- Er, but- I haven’t had a maid- not since I was a child!” You stutter and stammer, though it seems all of it goes unnoticed as Alyssa adjusts her seating, puts something labeled as conditioner into her hands, and takes your hair as you’re too stunned to move. She’s gentler than you expected.
You don’t spasm or react in any way as she slowly scrubs your scalp or runs the bucket of surprisingly warm water down your long locks. That would only start a scene, and your frantic eyeing of the room makes it clear that no one has noticed what’s happening yet. Goddess, you’re nearly nineteen you do not require help bathing of all things! But you reckon it’s best to just bear it. There’s no doubt Alyssa has a few mana circuits loose, and she seems to be enjoying herself, humming as she plays with your hair, that is, so you simply let yourself relax as much as you can. Strangely, you find yourself almost missing her coarse hands as she lets your hair go. That is before she asks, “May I braid it?”
