Reaper Society

Chapter 17: Consideration

The tile is a dove grey, and matte, not shiny like I'm used to seeing around HQ. It makes the large room with stalls seem a little more private for some reason. Gentle streams of steam hang in the humid air, also helping with the illusion of privacy. But all thoughts of 'privacy' are gone when I see a few naked bodies milling around the room silently. I'm not a prude, but I avert my eyes before I catch more than a few flashes of runed-skin.

I hadn't heard them before, when Asher was close by, but now I can hear the soft trickles of running water and idle chatter. I duck my head and make my way towards the right side of the room where Asher had indicated the lockers. When nothing moves in my periphery, I tip my head back up and take in the rows of small cubbies built into row upon row of grey shelves. Each has a number and accompanying lock, the kind I had in high school. None of the lockers in the first two rows have any keys in the locks, indicating they're in use, so I continue towards the back.

I finally reach a row of lockers where the keys still dangle from the locks and open one. Just like Asher said, two fluffy towels wait inside - grey of course. I frown and pull one from the locker, wondering if I should try to wash my jumpsuit or find a trashcan to toss it into. I figure it's supposed to last me for a while, so I don't immediately remove it as I shut the locker, towel tucked under one arm. I pull the key from the lock and engage the simple mechanism to activate it, though there's only a towel in there now.

Now that I'm slowing down again, calmer now, the muscles of my forearms ache from all the use. I remind myself that I need to try to rebuild the strength in them, massaging the pocked and scarred length of my forearms. I keep the key ring hooked by my thumb as I walk back to the shower area, making sure to keep my eyes down as I navigate back over to the stalls. I pass a few Reapers, some wrapped in grey towels, some completely nude, but no one talks to me - for which I'm grateful.

It'd be kind of awkward to make idle chatter while I'm trying to shower.

The stalls have no door or curtain, leaving it abundantly clear if one of them is taken or not. After passing ten occupied stalls, I finally come across one that's empty. I learned at a glance, that not all Reapers have runes on their skin. Some just have lots of scars, but others - like that Glory Reaper I'd met briefly - seem to be covered in them.

There's a hook on one side of the stall - for dry towels or things you want to keep dry, I assume - and a shower head on the other side. Hooking my clean, dry towel up on the wall, I step into the empty stall and start to undress, keeping my back to the open end of the stall.

Asher's earlier comment about me keeping my hands to myself makes heat warm my cheeks and I soon find myself gritting my teeth. Fucking Ash-hole... I think and nearly growl aloud. But I stop short of actually voicing it. What if just saying his name calls the ex-demon into the room?

I roll my eyes at that thought and finish stripping off my dirty jumpsuit. I stare at the tan material that has definitely been through the ringer. The brownish-red smears at irregular intervals along the lower half of the outfit make me grimace. I hadn't even noticed I was showing so much skin, not that I mind that sort of thing, but I would have like to know that I was probably flashing some people this whole time. I make sure to leave the thing on the ground so I can at least rinse it off - until I can get my hands on some detergent or a fresh outfit.

I twist a lever on the wall, one of three, and feel perfectly warm spray hit my shoulder. I continue to twist the grey pipe until the spray widens . The next has a hidden compartment popping out of the wall with two dispensers the size of my head jutting out. One is marked shampoo, the other body wash. I nearly fall over with relief as I eagerly reach for the shampoo dispenser and pump a good handful into one hand. I pull the hair tie from the end of the horribly messed-up braid my hair's been in and automatically let it slip onto my wrist.

I bite one end of the keyring and hold the thing in my mouth as I set to washing the snarls out of my hair. I should have cut it. Before, it was nice to have long hair, but now it's annoying to try and work out the tangles in the hip-length stuff. My hands start cramping up half-way through me washing the soap out and I pause to flex them. I shake them out before continuing, ignoring the burn of the muscles as I run my clumsy fingers through my hair.

When I'm mostly happy with the result of my now-clean hair, I tie it back up in a quick and messy bun on top of my head to keep the stuff from my face. I pump some body wash into my hands and begin working the sudsy stuff into my skin, wincing as I get a bit in my eyes when I viciously scrub at my face. I let out a huff of curses, sputtering in the spray as I let the water rinse the stuff from my now teary eyes.

Stepping back from the spray, I make quick work of washing the rest of my body, careful to be gentle with my rune-etched shins and calves. I hadn't taken any time to really study the intricate lines of swirling ink over my skin, but slowly take them in now. They look like tattoos, the ink dark and matte against my flesh, but I know better - feeling a sort of prideful grimace warp my lips. They hurt like hell to get, but damn, they look pretty badass.

I rinse off and try to scrub some of the dried blood from the jumpsuit while I'm at it. The stains lighten, but don't completely fade. I let out a sigh and shut off the water, ringing out the material. I pull the towel from it's hook and wrap myself in it's fluffy embrace. I remove the key ring from my mouth and hook it back on my thumb before making my exit from the stall. As I step out, I nearly run into someone. I freeze, jerking back and nearly slipping on the tile in my efforts to back up.

Asher grips my forearm, eyes burning bright red as he watches me. I feel my eyes narrow at him, my whole face warming as I clutch my towel tighter to my otherwise naked body.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask, easily keeping the lust from my voice as bolts of pleasure ricochet through me from the feel of his skin against mine.

"Just a moment." Asher replies, rolling his eyes at me, some of the red dimming. "Here." He thrusts something between us. I look down at the tan material of a rolled-up jumpsuit. It looks a lot bulkier than it should be, but I take it anyway. "I'll take this," Asher pulls the still-wet mess of my previous clothing from it's place tucked over one of my arms. "Go change and come out when you're ready."

Before I can say anything to that, or his bossiness, Asher releases me and turns, making a quick exit from the room. I stare at his retreating back until he disappears, frowning. I finally shake my head and march back to the locker area. There's no one back here, so I drop my towel once I get to my locker and wrap the still almost-completely dry material around my hair. Then I unroll the bundle Asher'd given me.

I stare as a simple set of nude-colored underwear and matching bra fall to the floor. My eyebrows jerk up as I stare down at the stuff. I hadn't been wearing undergarments, which hadn't been issue with the loose-fitting jumpsuit, but I'm still a little stunned by what I'm staring at. They're not by any means 'sexy' underthings, but they are the correct sizes, I discover as I pull them on. It should probably freak me out that Asher knew what size panty and bra I use/wear, but I shove the thought aside. What really surprises me is the fact he even bothered to get them for me.

When I pull on the jumpsuit, however, I realize it's necessary. This jumpsuit is a lot closer to my actual measurements than my last one. It's not clingy, but close enough to form-fitting that I'm sure someone would have noticed I wasn't wearing underthings eventually. I stare at my bare feet as I try to process this. Asher was considerate enough to bring me undergarments...I don't know how to feel about that. I mentally shelve the line of floundering thought for another time and tuck the locker key into one of my front pockets.

I pull the towel off, remove the hair tie, and try to wring out my still-wet hair. When it's dry enough to not be a problem, I roll up my now-wet towel and wander out of the shower room. Asher's waiting, arms crossed and back to the wall, when I exit. His reddish-brown eyes flare bright for a second as he takes me in, but the red color recedes after a second. He clears the space between us in a blur, taking the wet towel from my hands and going over to the inside of the shower room. I watch as he drops the towel into a laundry shoot built into the wall I hadn't noticed.

"Let's go." Asher turns to me, walking past as he leads us back through the maze to the training hall.