After the trudge through a rough rainy path, Lilith, alongside Aoki on her back, had arrived in front of the house of roses. The rain showers excited beneath the flurry of sky, pitter-pattering around the roof and the surface. The cloak on his back had gotten drenched while her bare skin had bathed between exhausting sweats and bothersome drops. His rumpled hair covered around his forehead and ears. His arms wrapped around her chest, poking sometimes on her breast, although he couldn't feel its soft texture since he only sought some comfort to whittle down his clouded mind of fear.
She knocked on the door and called Spica to open it.
"Spica! It's me, Lilith Rose. I stumbled on Aoki when he was… walking on a freezing road."
Hearing the call, Spica pulled the door and gasped while seeing his face in blackish-swollen eyes and shivering teeth from its bleak rain and breeze. She then gave her the spacious path while watching them rush to the upstairs. She closed the door and followed them for her curiosity, walking behind them.
Spica asked, "What's... going... on... with... him?.... Why... did... he... walk... around... the... rain?"
"I don't know," Lilith responded while rushing to the bed. "But he walked from the chapel with nothing to cover his freezing body."
Spica shook her head while hearing the words to her culpable ears. She puffed from her gaped mouth. Her heart throbbed with an immense push. No words came to her mind and mouth as her eyes were wide and guilty, focusing on his unconscious body. Reaching to his ideal bedroom, Lilith settled his freezing body on the warm, comfy bed and removed the wet cloak out of his way, revealing her two-piece dress. His jaw was still shivering, although his teeth were gradually gritting. His chest was pumping in standard pace. She placed the blank on his torso and patted on his forehead.
She said, "Spica, grab me some hot water and a towel. I need to relieve him from his fever."
Spica nodded without her need of words. She ran down the stairs and hurried towards the kitchen. She crouched down in front of the wooden cabinet to find the kettle till she grabbed it with her lucky sight. Then she filled the water in the kettle from the faucet and placed it on the metal stove. She took the portable transparent crystal from the side of the stove and put it beneath the spot of the kettle.
"Fire…"
With her call, the crystal had glowed from transparent to crimson-glittering aura with the smell of fire. The heat from the crystal radiated from the spot above its tip, so it boiled the water within the kettle. While waiting for the alarm, she left the kitchen and headed to the storage room for the retrieval of a towel. She gripped a pair as if in case of spare.
Until several minutes passing by, the sudden whistle of kettle apprised her to settle it down.
"Discard…"
Then, the reddish glow of the crystal had disappeared back into a transparent standard.
Meanwhile, Lilith sat on the bed where Aoki laid down. She removed her mud-caked sandals from her feet and observed his face when there might be any unsettled occurrence. His eyes were closed, and his chest and nose were pumping. Although the sweats still bathed on his skin, it was the reason for the retrieval of boiling water and a towel. She nudged on his forehead to check the temperature.
"You're getting hot," she murmured. "I don't know how you've gone through this, but I guess Spica will be disappointed to hear the news. Don't worry, I won't hurt you and Spica from it."
"The… hot… water… is… here...!"
The sudden puffy call startled Lilith from her words to him. Although Lilith's voice was soft and gloomy, Lilith sighed without her hesitant tremor. Spica approached Lilith near Aoki's bed and placed the small wooden tub of boiling water while she handed a pair of towels to Lilith. Lilith drenched the towel in the tub of boiling water and then wrung it out above the tub to avoid excessive leakage. She then placed it on his forehead to provide him a soothing warmth. She brushed with her fingers on his untidy hair, and her caring face and lips neared his ears.
Lilith whispered, "I'll change your hair since I must protect you from this entire populace."
"Wait… what… are… you… doing…?" Spica asked with her blush.
"Nothing," Lilith turned her head towards her. "What's the dinner for tonight?"
"I'm… sorry… if… it… went... cold… but… it's… roasted… pork… stripes… and… mashed… potatoes…"
"It's okay. I get used to eating cold foods."
Lilith stood up from the bed and walked towards the exit.
"Take care of him," she smiled. "Don't let him try to stand up."
Spica nodded, although Aoki was sleeping with a calm snore. Looking in his dusty arms, she gripped the spare towel and drenched it. She squeezed it, pouring away some leakage, and scrubbed it on his messy arms. With her frowning lips, her guilt grasped the heartbeat at a double rate. She shook her head to wash it away, although she thought he could mind nothing since it was his responsibility to take care of himself.
She respired deeply to regard for her apology.
"Were… you… pushing… hard… for… yourself?.... I… think… you… were… having… a… long… walk… in… the… middle… of… the… rain…," she pouted. "Don't… be… such… a… hard… pusher…"
She continued wiping his entire arms. Then she yawned with her wide mouth and broad exhaust since her rough household chores drained her to sleep. Although her eyes were wobbling, her head snuggled down on the bed. She began snoring from her arduous tasks. Her sluggish body bent towards the bed while sitting on the bed, or perhaps laying down on it.
"Please…. Be…. With…. Me…."
Through her sleepy whispers, she relaxed on the bed without a warning.
Meanwhile, Lilith had finished her dinner and went upstairs to his bedroom. Upon opening the door, she entered and saw Spica laying down on the bed. It was an aftermath of her heavy household chores which drove her to unconscious uncertainty.
Lilith giggled and mumbled, "Oh, dear. What a precious picture… but I also feel sorry for you since it will not work off."
Then she lifted lightweight Spica while her drowsy senses felt nothing but deep. She carried towards her respective room, filling with reddish curtains, books and pens, and laid her on the bed. Afterwards, she exited and closed the room, entering back to Aoki. She locked the door on his room to avoid any private commotion.
What kind of private did it mean?
With that, she undressed her two-piece outfit, leaving herself naked, and approached the bed to lay herself down on the bed beside his soporific body, facing aside.
Before laying down, she gripped a wooden jar of pomade from the wet cloak on the ground and placed it on the desk.
Her soft big breasts pressed against his rear, and her one leg crossed on his two sore legs. Her palms and fingers nudged on his stomach. Her cheeks blushed with adoring lips. The warmth of her body should please him without the need of arousal. Her entire alluring body brushed against his, hugging him like a pillow.
She whispered, "This is just for a try."
Thus, she began a ritual to comfort him from his traumatic shiver.
* * *
The voice of mine spewed with my flamboyant dose,
All of my friends loved to raise as I arose,
Even the playgrounds' invitation welcomed us;
The sunny hours must sweat as we cluster.
Our legs and arms dared and dared, faster.
What a frisky day!
Until the strain of ennui,
The desperate day and night watched over my downfall;
The ruinous feast of reality bloomed anew.
Staying in the listless room was my fault!
Our convivial hearts faded away with my words, probably harmful,
It was the beginning of my apathy...
* * *
The glitter of sun radiated to his unconscious eyes. The pitch-black vision had faded out, and the dim-reddish glow had faded in. The morning chirp of birds soothed his ears. He felt as soft as pillow on his right side although it could be thick and bizarre. Darting his eyes woke him up on this day—after the night dreaded him from the glimpse of orphans' bloody, swollen corpses.
After he retrieved his entire sight, he lifted his upper body and rubbed his fatigued eyes to compose it. He turned his head around to check from the sudden sense.
Until he found the cause of its tender touch. The lady in amethyst hair and lofty curves had nestled on the rumpled bed, sleeping with her bare body. Her mild lips pleased his feasting eyes as he gazed from head to toe. A bittersweet fragrance from her hair and skin scented like a rose. The erection of his crotch suddenly arose without an obvious exaggeration. At first, he tightened his lips and cheeks from the unusual witness, avoiding any temptation, and rubbed his eyes once again to confirm if it was a hallucination.
However, the answer was reality.
He reached his hand onto her shoulders and tapped on it for his conclusive proof. Then it turned out it was a definite result with his tingle of revelation. He shook his head as his mind went puzzling and felt the brisk of blood flowing throughout his vessels. Although he felt the drive of his manly hormones, he drew his blank face with no words but pulsing.
Instead, he thought, Hold on… I have never seen a naked girl in real life before... other than from watching many adult videos. Even if I can masturbate all the time, I don't want to ruin the respect of her tenderness…. Did she also hit me up?
He then clenched his fist and relaxed it on his lap.
The creak of bed woke Lilith up from the bed, twinkling her eyes. She raised and bent her torso. Her busty bosoms and perfectly round nipples dazzled him without the need of temptation, but the frown on her lips lessened his wonder. When she turned her head towards him, the blush on his cheeks astounded her.
She smiled, "Looks like you got erected while acting considerable."
"Thanks to you," he paused and turned his gaze away. "My mood has changed."
"It works as you please."
The body of an angel soothed his trauma with no words of comfort. Her curvaceous figure and soft skin awed him with his dazzling eyes. The gulp of his throat tingled his heartbeat as if any "lucky" possibilities could please him with fulfillment. The bulge on his crotch was revealing in front of her eyes, although she turned her eyes away from it for personality-wise.
Although she left herself naked with a shameless pose, she stood up from the bed and gazed at him while his manly hormones went driving him crazy—inside his flinching mind.
She asked, "Do any women call you by your unmannerly name?"
"You mean the type of woman who called me with the word 'Pervert'. If so, there are most women similar to that case, although they are self-aware of their own situation… for their innocence and defensive purity."
"Oh," she giggled. "That's normal. Every human being has their preference if they can keep their chastity or lust."
"Then, what do you keep?"
"Can be both," she winked at him. "If it's my preference too."
"And why?"
"Even if it's ironic to hear, I have two things to keep within me: One is my body while the other is my heart."
He nodded with the sincere hunch and knuckle on his chin. She walked towards the desk and grabbed the wooden jar in her one grip. She handed it to him while he started at it, as if the purpose of this item puzzled him.
"What's this for?" he asked.
"It's a pomade since you might want to change your style."
"Why?"
"Well, I can make you look beautiful."
He pressed, "Why though? Does my look not in your taste?"
She paused for a bit and rubbed her chin as she thought of something polite.
Thinking about it, she had heard of the forbidden tale that spread throughout this Kingdom—and probably the entire world—without offending him for her suggestive taste. She felt her heart pulsating from her expected mind, yet she drew her smile without skeptical cheeks. She let her fingers skim from chest to hips and her tongue lick around her lips. She then fixed her lips to render him a seductive disruption.
"I think this place has a taboo on it when it comes with your hair," she grinned.
"Ahh," he nodded with a tremble. "That makes sense."
"Can I fix your hair? I promise not to ruin your looks."
"Sure, but don't make me look like a douche."
"What's a 'douche'?"
"Just imagine the usual attitude of an aristocratic boy… actually, nevermind."
At first, his answer confused her with no reference. Thinking about it, she used to have many sex affairs with rich individuals, especially men. She was an angelic-looking prostitute with her lofty amethyst hair who traveled around beyond borders, although she had many ways to stay within the Kingdom of Dore since he and Spica were her precious housemates, worthy to pat their heads.
She went back on the bed, kneeling behind his back, and swayed back her lofty amethyst hair. Although he hadn't bathed his entire body for a morning fresh, he preferred sitting on the bed and looking at the window of morning glitter. He enjoyed the tingle from her fingers of strokes on his scalp and pressing bosoms on his spine, but he bit his lips and respired with his gentle lungs to resist his chance of a lost cause. She massaged his scalp and flicked her fingers down to relax the strands from its constant stand. The immense tenderness had raised the bulge on his crotch and throb on his chest without a grip of temptation, but it was worth his gleaming eyes, as if he entered paradise without a hard punch.
His head was quivering from the touch while her fingers were fixing every strand of his hair.
She murmured, "Have you tend to be quiet all the time?"
"If that's how my 'friends' had said their impression about me, then yes."
"That's great. You have no time to bother with anything. Maybe you can just look up to me"
"Please don't make any signs of something… bothersome."
"Don't worry. Your age doesn't suit you much."
"With your naked body, it seems suspicious."
"I wonder…"
Her words and voice teased him without diverting her next move. She kept stroking his hair like a comb and gleaming like a chick. Her tender touch soothed his chest from traumatic breath. With her lips, she could approach on his neck, but her busty bosoms sufficed his favor without permission.
Suddenly, the knock on the door startled them, stopping their sensation. They gasped without their obvious voice.
"Hey… Aoki…. Wake… up…. It's… time… for… a… meal…"
It was Spica who called him with her puffy voice. The knocking noises still continued until his response might halt her knuckles against the door. Although Lilith was still in his room, she approached his ears making no strange commotion.
She whispered, "Don't fret, she learned her proper manners on knocking on the door first. Anyway, I'll hide myself under your bed for cover."
He murmured, "Do you have time to dress for yourself?"
"I love standing nude in front of you, but for Spica, things will get rough for her."
"Ahh, hide somewhere else, and also don't look at me like a sex partner."
"Promise…"
Lilith stood up from the bed and nestled down on the ground, rolling to the convenient space beneath the bed. He walked towards the door and twisted the knob to open it. Once it shut open, the little girl in a red lehenga dress pouted her cheeks and frowned—her face diverted his fond look from sexy to cute, smiling with tight lips and cheeks.
"It's... time… for… breakfast…"
"What time is it?"
"Around… eight… and… where… did… big… sis… Lilith… go…?"
"... I don't know. And why are you asking me since I was fully sleeping all the time?"
"Oh…," she looked at the ground of his room and found the unreturned hooded cloak. "But... why... did... she... leave... her... traveling... cloak...?"
"Is she a clumsy person?"
She sighed, "Yes… probably… often…"
He eased his flinching lungs and blew out the air in silent relief. Then he stepped out from his room and closed the door to cover Lilith's probable escape. While he was walking down to the ground floor, she followed his trail till they reached together on the dining table. There were pristine fried eggs and roasted ground meat on each three plates. Once they sat together on the chair, the sole, lonely plate in front of the empty seat was Lilith's place, and she frowned while staring at it.
He noticed her and asked, "Do you feel sad when Lilith always left?"
Before answering his question, her hesitant eyelids flickered with no worry. She plucked the fork and knife in her usual style—the knife on her left hand while the fork on her right hand. With the ting of a plate, she then sliced the eggs and forked the pieces together with ground meat, munching it into her mouth. After she gulped it, she stared at him for her answer.
"I… always… get… used… to… being… alone… but… seeing… big… sis… Lilith… relieves… me… the… most…"
While talking with their curious mouth, they continued munching their food and tinging a plate till their respective plate was empty.
"For example—honestly."
"Soft… head… pats…. Cooking… and… groceries…"
"Sounds like a mother's treatment."
"Call… her… big… sis…"
"I'm sorry," he bowed.
"Well… we… are… different…"
"You came from the orphanage, right? If so, who do you care the most before Lilith?"
"Pelo… with… his… little… brother… and… everyone… else…"
"It seems you were their big sis before Lilith."
"No… we… are… mates… helping… together…"
"How about the Priests and Nuns?"
"Shifting… makes… us… no… care..."
She paused the conversation and closed her eyes for a bit with her deep respire. He thought that asking more questions could kill her throat from her steady accent since she had a throat problem which remained unknown from his perspective. He drummed his legs to wait for her resume while munching every piece.
However, the frown on her lips caught his attention. She laid the fork and knife on the plate and flinched her hands against each other since her dish was empty with her full stomach. She stood up from the chair and carried the plate with her two careful hands, heading towards the sink.
Before her step, she said, "Thanks… for… the… blessing…"
To him, it was the same gesture as he respected the food with the word "Itadakimasu~", but her voice was dull to his ears, thinking she ended this conversation for unknown reasons. She flicked the switch of the faucet to open the water and washed the dishes with her soap-bubbly sponge, wiping the entire base.
After he emptied his dish, he carried and placed it on the sink. But he expected that she would drag and force him to do it on his own; however, she went otherwise, volunteering to clean his dish too with no spoken words.
After she claimed her role, he climbed upstairs and heard the slight tapping steps coming from his room. He then stepped in his room and saw Lilith—still naked—placing a variety of dresses and blouses with a hanger on the bed, although she already donned a pair of sandals beneath her feet.
Once she found him staring, she rushed at him and dragged his collar with a prowl, nudging the door and locked it.
Her warm, tranquil breaths pleased him with the blush on his cheeks, and her comfy bosoms pressed against his chest, impressing between them.
She whispered, "If you have any problems regarding our pose, let's stop this moment for a while."
"I want to feel it, but I can't give myself out of control," he said.
"Don't worry, it's natural. You can just let yourself go."
He pulled his body away from hers in the bare garment. He then tucked his white polo to render himself for a comfortable fit.
"Just remain your silent voice as always to avoid any commotion for Spica," she said. "Because I have to cover up this risky situation."
"What's your plan about it?"
"Well, I have brought three best dresses to fit for this day's errand. These three will fit my escape."
She gave him the space to look around the dress: the first was an azure silk halter; the second was a green lehenga, and the third was a scarlet bra and tight trouser. Once he finished gazing at these dresses, he scratched and shook his head as the multiple choices dazzled him. He inhaled to fill his lungs and tensed his lips and cheeks, forming a strained smile with his wide-focused eyes.
He asked, "What's your favorite?"
"All of them, but I want you to pick one which is the best," she whispered to his right ear. "No shrug."
"Fine," he sighed, looking at the dresses, and thought. Does she want my suggestion? I wonder if the color of each dress applies to her mood. Even though she's naked behind my eyes for now, she can fit in many types of dress. These designs are quite decent, but this puts me in a dilemma. Thinking about it, the color of this environment is red, and it might suit her violet hair. She also said that she had her errands to work on. Errands can make everyone sweaty, and wearing much dressed around shoulders and hips can wet through much skin, so wearing with some bare parts can solve the problem. However, I don't think it will work in context. I guess this leaves me with a wise choice, but first, I have something to ask her.
He turned his glance and head at her and found her posturing with the right hand on her relaxed hips. Her seductive face and amethyst hair stupefied him with the immense drive of his manly hormones and the throb of his heart although he thought of it as a natural occurrence which she reminded him to control his conscious grip.
Thankful to her advice, he hacked off his steady breath and fixed his gaze.
He asked, "What's the season for today?"
"Spring," she answered.
Figuring it out, he snapped his finger and pointed towards the azure silk halter.
"This will be your best fit for me."
"You just meet my expectations," she smiled. "I also love how you suddenly pick the dress."
"Thank you," he bowed and thought. Was she trying to test me?
Thinking about it, the dress he picked was decent to stroll around for her purposeful errands. He could have picked the red one since it fitted her if the heat bathed her body in sweat; however, the season of spring which she mentioned hadn't met his expectation regarding the environment, so he betrayed his own belief and instead chose something comfortable.
She walked towards the bed and picked the hanging azure silk halter which had the long, wide skirt that reached around her knee level. She then plucked it from the wooden hanger and wore it through her feet, pulling upward till her bosom.
She requested, "Can you fix the rear for attachment?"
"I don't know how to manage it, but I'll give it a try."
He hurried behind her back and found the untied knot, causing the loose fixing. He then tied the knot like a shoelace and freed his hands to test the tightness of her dress. Once he finished his favor, she raised her arms without holding the dress and twirled her body and skirt despite wearing bare underwear. She was smiling in a mild gape.
"Is that only what you wear?" he asked.
"Yes," she winked at him. "Since this skirt can suffice me."
"Okay…"
"I also have to fix your hair with pomade," she headed towards the bed and knelt behind the edges. "Come, sit in front of me."
He approached the bed and sat on the edge in front of her. With his relaxed laps and cheeks, he waited for the touch on his hair while she grabbed the wooden jar and opened the lid to scoop a finger of pomade. She then rubbed her hands against each other and began massaging his messy hair without the touch on his scalp. Her soothing fingers combed every… and every strand downward to form from spike to relaxed low.
"How does it feel?" she whispered.
"Feels like a massage parlor."
She giggled, "Oh, dear. It's not like I'm serving you."
"It's like someone hasn't touched my hair for an entire lifetime."
"Maybe you're lonely."
He shrugged, "Who knows? That's not what I truly feel."
"I think what you feel is quite slothful."
He paused from her words, closing his lips, and frowned to resist his reaction. His eyes gleamed as the morning glitter passed through the window and dazzled him to view outside without tempting to stand. Other than feeling the massage on his scalp, the morning breeze blew over their faces and ears, and it swayed her glossy amethyst hair to her right side.
After brushing his hair, she patted on his neck and stepped away from the bed, standing up in front of his face.
Before revealing the result, she walked towards the desk and gripped the portable round mirror in front of his face, bending her upper body to gaze at his face in a better view. The reflection on the mirror was his face with silent eyes and lips, and the top of his head was the hair in a low-pointed strand, entirely shown as the glossy bowl-shaped cut.
"How's it?" she asked.
He smiled, "Quite decent and spectacular."
"Such complimentary answers," she giggled. "How about some negative reactions?"
"It still looks like I'm a douche, but not stereotypical."
"Thanks for the review."
She winked at him and put the mirror back on his desk.
She still looked down on the table as if there was something that came up to her mind.
"Sorry for that awhile ago," she paused. "I never know you much, but you really are the most mysterious yet special person I have ever met. What makes me believe more was your clothes, skin, and voice. So I am always impressed with you like a... I don't know which I really describe myself other than the one who can bring comfort to many people, mostly men."
He heard her voice with a remorseful tone, but it still puzzled him as if her intentional say could help. It sounded like an awkward person who tried to commit something even a little. Although she was a prostitute who could act slutty in some time, she also could act angelic to his eyes.
He still gazed at her from top to bottom, and his first impression was the vigorous flow of blood throughout his veins. He drummed his one foot to restrain from his unease and wiped his sweat from the morning heat.
"Well," she startled him. "Time to play an escape."
She walked to the window and climbed her right foot on the bottom edge, preparing to fall. His eyes trailed at her, and he gasped without knowing her intention—or hearing her words.
"What are you doing?" he slurred.
"Don't worry," she grinned. "If you still remember the needle on your shoulder, you should also know why the sudden ice spell flew above the woods."
Recalling the scene, he pictured it when he was forced to march towards the Capital City of Dore although the dim night couldn't render his clear vision—the fortunate time which she saved him from the men in orange coats including the Princess and a despicable girl by the name of Caroline.
His eyes widened from his recognizable memory.
"Oh…" .
She asked, "What do you think? Am I still that incapable?"
"Well, it's all yours," he shrugged.
"See you for a while," she turned her head to the outside.
She tapped another foot on the edge and fell down from it while he hurried to the window and found her hanging with her hooking fingers on the rough rail amid the wall. It halved her falling meters to render herself with no sign of casualty. There were no other windows around her, so she composed her lungs and exhaled.
With that, she landed her feet on the ground with a smooth tap on the grassy surface. Then she approached the main door and knocked on it to call Spica.
"Spica! It's me, Lilith Rose."
He heard the call from the outside, but he instead hit himself on the bed for the wait. While laying on the bed, he thought about the joyous moment and compared it between the former and latter. To the former one, he realized with his timid lips and friendless support. Although the bothersome environment ruffled him to be isolated from the harsh reality, he also thanked a certain girl with elegant overlong hair and eminent acting skills who came from the next door of his former settlement and lingered with him. He also recalled every dish she cooked for him; the taste of barbecue steak reminded him with the soothing blink of his eyes. Compared to the latter one, a lofty amethyst-haired lady named Lilith Rose rescued him from the probable injustices of the orange coats and sent him together to this house of roses with a reddish coat on every wall and corner. Despite being a prostitute, he adored her like a caretaker who approached him with a wholehearted smile.
"What a better world!"
Minutes later, the patter of sandals approached his room, and the knock on the door woke him from his deep anamnesis.
He walked to the door and opened it, revealing to be a lofty amethyst-haired lady named Lilith Rose who greeted and smiled like nothing happened before.
"Let's have a date," she said.
With that, he gaped his mouth and chuckled from her deliberate words.