The Soldier

                                    

                                          
Is it crazy to move in with a random stranger I've only met now? It's not like I really have a choice, though. I can't always live in that same inn anyways, I take up a whole room and food from Tanya, the lady who owns it. I'm surprised she even let me stay, I'm bad for business, but I'd rather stay in some fancy castle and leech off rich people and their luxuries rather than an honest woman. 
Walking back into the castle with Alaric is nerve wracking since now I really see how little I am with just a bag of clothes and my own body. I keep looking over at him as we walk in silence, and I can't help but wonder how much his clothes cost. How much the frames of his glasses are, or if the necklace is made of gold or other valuable materials. He's a diamond, and I'm just a dollar.
He finally breaks the silence, clearing his throat as we approach his room again, no, "our" room. "So, it seems your ex and-or future girlfriend and you get along well." He taps my shoulder, grimacing. "Did she say anything about me though? She seems a bit... tense." 
"She's not my lover or anything. You need to stop making everything so romance-orientated." I smack his hand away from my shoulder, annoyed now. He pulls his back, retreating from the topic now as he looks away for a moment before we reach the door.
He stops fully, placing his hand on the doorknob and looking at me. "Is that really all your belongings?" His eyes drop to the bag in my hand, in disbelief. 
I scoff and shove him lightly out the way, pushing the door open. "It's not that big of a deal. Just let me in so I can change." I begin trudging into the room, grabbing one of my shirts from the bag. It's just a simple black shirt, no graphics or prints on it. I start to take off the undershirt I had on, and Alaric almost screamed again. 
"Why do you keep doing that? Never seen some skin before?" I turn to him, holding the undershirt in my hand again. He holds his hand up in a blade to shield his eyes, somewhat turning away again. Has he never been in a changing room at some fancy spa or whatever? 
I grab the new shirt, pulling it over me and it tugs on my ponytail, loosening it a bit. I groan for a moment, reaching my own hand up to the back of my head, but Alaric has already pulled out the hair tie. So now he can actually come up to me and do whatever when I have a shirt on?
I whip around, confused for a moment but he stares back at me with the hair tie and a brush in his hands. "Calm down, big guy." He raises the hair brush again and smiles, shaking it like he's shaking a toy at a baby. "Remember this? Haaaiiiirrrrbbbrrruuussshhh." He stretches the word out like a noodle, I might do the same to him if he doesn't shut up. 
He motions for me to turn my head again, and I sigh and follow. He pulls my shoulders down a bit, causing me to crouch just ever so slightly while he quickly combed through my hair and tightly looped the tie over it. 
He chuckles for a moment, fixing the hair that wasn't fully pulled into the ponytail. "You have pretty long hair, and it's nice too when it's down and taken care of." He pulls the hair tie out again, gathering all my hair for a moment, and suddenly I feel his knuckles rub over my back. 
It feels like time has slowed down, and now I am stuck in a limbo of my own making. He traced along the stem of my scars, a roadmap of every moment where I have feared for my life the most, a time where I could only see in red and all of my life was just pictures flashing in my mind. The familiar touch of my mother from when she would examine each scar, the touch of Diego observing what he molded me into, the fingers of many observing my scars as a trophy of my survival in this world as a mule. 
I come back into the current time, though I'm still seeing my life as only a collage of pictures until I'm safe again. I grab his hand. I hold his wrist, squeezing it and he tries to pull away. I bring him closer. We both stop for only half a second, and for that half of a second my eyes meet his.
I let go of his hand, stepping back slowly, breathing heavily like I was running for my life. He stares at me, and now I'm pulled fully back into reality. 
"I'm sorry."
He holds the hair tie still, seemingly concerned now, raising his hands up and holding them in place. His eyes soften as he looks at me, no judgment like most people would.
"I just wanted to do your hair, that's all." His voice is like a shaky whisper, "I won't do anything you don't want me to do." He keeps his hands up like he's surrendering or something. 
My lungs finally let air in, rushing in like the opened floodgates of a dam. I shake my head, looking down at the floor, "It's really fine. I'm fine with it." My hands keep moving together like they're magnets, I need to stop doing that. "Help me with my hair tie, yeah?"
Please just let him move on from this.
He nods at me, pulling a chair for me to sit. "Sit here, I won't struggle to get all your hair again." He wears a soft smile on his face, I feel like I'm being catered to like a scared animal. I reluctantly shuffle over, sitting in the chair and I lower my head. 
He takes my hair again, holding it and moving gingerly, and I close my eyes for a moment and breathe in deeply.
I open my eyes again and turn a bit to the table, he's set the hair tie aside and instead is running his fingers through my hair with some sort of product. He goes slowly, gentle with each strand of hair he caresses, almost like he was with the clothes in that wardrobe. He begins humming, softly, just like my mother would when she would do my hair when she was still around. I can't believe that he, a random stranger, is sitting here and tending to my hair, a brutish idiot who just shoved his caring hands away. 
He has soft hands, strangely enough. I never thought a guy could, almost like a girl's, but he does. They're coordinated, like he's done this for somebody else long before I came along. 
He finishes my hair, keeping it down since the clock begins to strike late into the night. He walks up in front of me and smiles, he smiles like what I expect a cute girl to smile like. I don't really like girls, though. I never really thought about attraction and beauty in the first place.
"Well, do you want to look in the mirror? I made you look so pretty." He steps back and gestures to the full length mirror in the corner of the room, keeping that wide smile on his face. As I stand up and go to the mirror, he keeps his eyes glued on me to try to gauge my expression and see my reaction to his 'masterpiece'. 
I nod, smiling at him with a somewhat tired gaze. "My hair looks nicer than normal." I look down and realize I still haven't changed my pants though. "I need to change still, so..." I start walking over to the bag of clothes again, looking for pants to wear. 
Alaric has already booked it to the other room, shutting the door while he yells, "Tell me when you're done!" I can't believe that idiot. 
I slide into my new clothes, some comfortable shorts I always wear to sleep, and pop the door open. He walks in, opening his mouth to speak again before having a full stop in everything he's doing. I look around before realizing he's staring at my legs.
I roll my eyes and walk up to him, "My eyes are up here." He slowly looks up, seemingly in shock.
He stutters almost, "Do you like... Why do you choose to wear pants when you've got... those to show off?" He snorts out a laugh and goes back to staring at my legs.
I snap my fingers, pointing to my face again. "That's just my calves, not even my arms or chest. But you're too pussy to even look at a man while he's changing." I taunt him just a bit, it's amusing that this is how he reacts to just my legs. He's easily bought with "eye candy", maybe that's why he's letting me stay here. 
I begin walking towards my pallet again, fixing it up while he laughs in shock. "It's just rude to stare-" 
"And you're staring at me right now, so I don't see a difference." I cut him off quickly, kneeling down to rearrange the blankets and pillows. "Now, it's already late so I'm hitting the hay." 
He scoffs a bit, annoyed now. "Yeah, it's bed-time for little boys right now, so of course you are." He sits in the chair again, grabbing his booklet and pen, the same scratchy one he used the night before. I lay down, enveloping my whole body in the blankets, falling asleep quickly and calmly.