Abomination Contract Loving The Enemy - Chapter 70
I don’t know where I was expecting to go next, but Asher surprises me once more with the place he takes me to, more unanticipated than when I realize that he had just given me clear passage through most of these gates inside the city with the black military bracelet.
The place we go to is in a street full of people and stores on each side of the road, and once past the front glass door I can see the inside is full of chairs and mirrors, a strong sweet smell filling the place, making me sneeze as we step inside.
“Welcome, welcome!” Some greet us inside in a cheerful manner.
The place is full of little things that I have never seen before, all with strong perfume to them, many shelves with bottles, towels, colorful containers from small to big, and even some flowers vases here and there as well as many places to sit down, all with a great illumination up above them to increase the appeal of the place, a charming mix of white and shades of blue.
“Welcome, Asher, and oh my who is this one? Such beautiful hair mistreated like this…But don’t worry hon, you came to the right place, I will fix you right up, leave it to me!”
I don’t like how excited this stranger seems to be with my presence here, especially with such focus on me, coming closer while staring at my hair, touching it a second later.
“Yes, yes, I can work with this, I can make wonders out of it… So what will it be today hon? Hydration? You need it, uff you do, and cutting the ends for sure, look at it.”
“Make it short.” Asher simply says on the side, not bothering in explaining the situation for me, but no surprise there; though I quickly grasp the position I’m in moments later into it, especially when the stranger seems so interested in my hair..
“Short? Good lord with a hair like this…Black raven that reflects the light like petrol, and you want it short? Such a waste of good hair that will be…” After receiving no further answer from Asher, the guy sighs, saying: “Alright, whatever you say, but I still think is just a shame to cut such a nice hair.”
After that the guy messes around with a few things, coming back and forth, giving me a glimpse of a familiar sharp tool that a crazy woman in the past tried to use on me, just after I arrived at this city.
That makes me sneer in displeasure, even more after he says:
“Now love, come and have a seat, will be over in no time.” He says after patting the chair that stands in front of the mirror.
Now now you must be crazy if you think I’ll simply sit down in front of a stranger with a sharp tool in his hands like this is nothing, surely Asher does not th-
“Seiji, ‘Sit down’ please.” What?! You little shi-.
I sit down.
For a moment I forgot the kind of situation I’m in.
The stranger does not seem to realize that I’m forced into seating as with a smile he starts working, first taking a cloth and putting over me and taking my hair back at the strange bowl attached to the back of the chair, and looking at the state my hair is in he starts by brushing the knots out of it, seemly having some hard time doing so, but keeping the smile all the way into the end.
After brushing and breaking a sweat he pulls my head backward and before I have time to even frown at his actions when I feel a gush of hot water splashing my hair, which makes me jump in place for I did not expect it.
The stranger has the audacity of chuckling about it, saying: “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to surprise you.” And worst is that, when I look at the mirror, I can see that even Asher has a small smile on his face.
The.
Prick!
I narrow my eyes at the vision, promising to return the favor as soon as possible, already curving my lips up just thinking about the payback.
And this is the point where I realize what Asher’s intentions are, having me clean up to meddle in with the humans, the higher class humans that is, not the ones at the slums.
I understand the need for that, but it doesn’t mean I like it.
Once it comes to the part of cutting my hair though the strange man stops with the blade mid-air while holding my wet hair backward, and as he brings the blade forward he seems to deflate and drop his hand while looking back at Asher again.
“Seriously though he will look much better with a treated long hair than a short one, especially that military style, doesn’t fit well with his face.”
“Short haircut”. Asher simply says, but the stranger seems serious about going against it and insisted:
“Long hair.”
“…Short.”
“Long. Hair.”
“…No.”
“Look, I don’t tell you how to do your job so you don’t tell me how to do mine, how does that sound?”
Asher raises his eyebrow at the confrontation, which only speaks of incoming trouble. However the stranger seems rather persistent about it, as if this matters a lot to him; his motives escape me; but he ends up settling with this:
“How about a middle term? Not too short, not too long, how does that sound…?” He asks, but even if it sounds like he’s given Asher an option, truly he is already cutting my hair even before finishing his sentence at the height he intended to, shoulder ledge, enough so my black hair would shine and frame my face, or be kept in a high small ponytail when needed.
I cannot deny however that once he’s done I find it odd to have my face in display like this, to not have a curtain of hair in front of my eyes, obscuring my gaze from the others.
Is oddly… exposing I would say.
Leaving my hair in a ponytail, we finally manage to leave that place, the cold Asher man beside me very quiet after the long wait and the confrontation.
But still, I’ve not forgotten to repay your kindness… and I find the opportunity in the next store we go to.