𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐧

✧[017]✧

The reality of it wasn't as bad as you had thought. The truth was he only wished to care for your physical health, more like beauty, but you weren't complaining. The scent of almond and vanilla wafted through the air, a warm cozy scent, that's the kind he sprayed on you. He said himself, it complements your personality, makes you seem more inviting.

You didn't know if he ment it, or he was telling you, you smelt bad without saying you smell bad. Then he had started with your nails, triming them down to an acceptable size, then rubbing cuticle oil over your finger tips. He looked so focused on you, so determined. You hadn't a clue why he was trying so hard to make certain parts of you admirable.

You listened to him and whine about his problems as he'd hold up various colored sheets of paper towards your skin and hair. He was apparently picking your personal color? You hadn't a clue what he meant but went with it anyways. He paused, staring at a few different shades of pink and red  while mentioning what we're very clearly your friends.

"You hang out with the Spudlings? The same ones that tried to 'save' Epel? Why?"

"Because they are my friends."

"Oh..." He said both shocked and disgusted. Like he didn't really expect some type of mutualism between you and them. Sort of like the time a mom would give if presented with a mud pie. Lovely, but... Not the greatest. He smiled but it showed that exact thought upon his face.

"A waste really. But there determination is admirable."

"Huh? For what?"

"Oh? I thought you knew? Those bimbos are auditioning for the culture fair. Kalim texted me about it... They are so uncoordinated, utterly helpless without Kalim and Jamil." He murmured as his hands finally made their way to your hair, interwoven with your locks and observing it's thickness and texture.

"Wait, Yuuka is there too?" He hummed in response, running product's through your hair. Meanwhile, you felt a bit... Deflated. Deviated even. Your friends didn't tell you? You but the inside of your cheek at the thought. They've started excluding you. The thought of it... Hurts.

"Oh yes! They all are... Such an odd thing really. Trying to win that audition... That spot is for Epel. And- Is something wrong, crinkle cut? You've started slouching."

"No, it's just. They didn't tell me... My own friends didn't tell me they were auditioning." Vil's lips turned thin for a second, he obviously didn't care for them to begin with, but the thought of that made him care a little less.

"Maybe they aren't as close to you as you thought. But nevertheless... Things are fine now. I'm here for you little spud. I saw what you did for me the other day... Shooing away that thing. I am grateful you agree with me on that, everyone thinks I'm evil for having... A distaste toward Neige."

His hands finally stopped toying with your hair. It was healthy now, he definitely knew hair treatments fit every kind of hair. As he brushed most of it out of the way, his hands halted at your mask. He seemed deep in thought, pondering if he should even say the words or not before ultimately deciding to anyways.

"Hm, may I see your face?"

"Wha... What?"

"I'd like to maintain all your beauty, that can't be done if you are covering your face."

"No sorry..."

"That's fine, I suppose. Stubborn little crinkle cut. I had a feeling you'd say that. Allow me to at least gift something to you then, for being so agreeable." He uncovered a glass case, a little box it was, but nothing could describe how detailed it was. Gold and glass with a velvet cushion inside.

"Huh?"

"Well, what do you think? Is it suitable for you?

Upon that velvet cushion was a Porcelain rabbit mask, decorated with  a distinct blue gaze. It looked like something almost to pretty to wear, reminding you of old chinese ceramics. The soft white and the blue designs sprinkled throughout the entire thing. Not to mention, the feeling of it was cool to the touch.

You touched the one currently upon your face. It did lack the same level of design not to mention was this new one prettier. The tongue in your mouth had seemingly dried up, a lost for words raised instead.

"You didn't have to.."

"But I wanted too. Getting things custom made isn't a problem for me. It's a problem for you. I've seen where you live and I've seen your financial situation. It's something really."

"Just say I'm poor."

"You are poor."

You snickered a bit at the lack of hesitation. But found it almost comforting that he didn't make fun of you for it. You picked it up, the glass incredibly cold against your fingertips. Vil smirked, turning around and tapping his foot.

You quickly slipped your old one off, putting the new one on. It was perfect. He peeked over his shoulder at you, it fit perfectly. He came up behind you fixing the parts that held it in place. Turning your head with his fingers so he could see it from every angle.

"We're running low on time... I have to get going soon," You slipped out of the chair, "Thank you! I'll see you another time. Remember If you ever need to talk, I'm always here."

"Distasteful hearing those words, really. But I like them from you. Run along now, Crinkle Cut. And fix your posture."

"I wish you didn't fear your own beauty, the way people fear mine."