Time strolled past, until Zeven was ready to move forward with the first step of his plans. Sauntering upstairs he opened the door to his room, ready to wake up a sleeping Chris.
To his surprise she was not in the bed. Looking around, he saw that she was standing in front of the mirror. The door was cracked and he couldn't see what she was doing clearly. Moving closer he peered through the slit in the door.
Chris had a handful of blonde hair and was holding it against the blade of her dagger. Her hands trembled slightly as she hesitated. And as Zeven watched it was clear to him that she was not doing this because she wanted to. So with all good intentions he nudged the door open and leaned against the door frame.
"I think you'd look hot with short hair."
"Excuse me?"
His hands were in his pockets and he wore a coy smile. "You heard me."
They both paused for a minute. As Zeven and Chris both realized at the same time that he was not wearing a shirt. Chris blinked slowly wishing that she was just imagining things, but unfortunately not. Zeven on the other hand was not bashful about nudity in most circumstances, but he did feel embarrassed that he had managed to completely forget that he left his shirt downstairs.
Chris put the dagger down. It was the custom of Ametade for men of high standing to grow their hair long. The longer it was the more prestige and honor a person held. And the weight was a heavy burden. She had been on the fence about whether to cut it or not after reading the letter of Christopher's death, but after Zeven's charming comment she realized that she wasn't ready to be rid of it yet.
"Since you can't raise your shoulder, would you like me to fix your hair for you?" His way of completely flipping between personalities was off setting. Throwing her for a such loop that she didn't have a chance to respond before he was guiding her to the bed. Sitting her down on it, Zeven returned to the bathroom and grabbed the crate of hair items that he had amassed over time. Inside the crate were several ribbons, a jar of gel, a comb, and a brush.
"Don't worry I'm very good at this." His words were not reassuring..
Her hair was heavier than he thought it'd be, and much thicker. His hands got lost in her hair as he worked his way through. Taking his time, he worked his fingers though piece by piece until there were no knots left. He grabbed the ribbons and used them to secure her hair.
Letting her know that he was finished, he helped her to the bathroom mirror. He was grateful to be standing behind her, because he wasn't sure that he could keep a straight face.
Chris looked into the mirror, and her face went slack. Zeven doubled over as he laughed. His laughter turned into wheezes as he couldn't control himself. Slowly turning over her shoulder she stared him down, which only added fuel to his laughter.
"I bet you think you're really funny." Her hair was in two high pigtails on opposite sides of her head. Large bows were tied in the ribbons as well, giving it a sweet young look. The hairstyle was well executed, but it didn't fit Chris in the slightest.
"Mae really likes when I do her hair."
"How old is she 8?"
"No." Zeven straightened himself, but the goofy grin wouldn't leave his face.
Chris reached up and pulled on the ends of one of the bows, it came unraveling down. She reached over to undo the other, but Zeven caught her hand and did it himself.
"Okay, for real this time." He sat the ribbons on the counter and tried to move Chris back to the bed.
"Not a chance. I obviously can't trust you." "Please Chris, just one more chance?" He batted his eyes.
"Do it here where I can see you." Zeven couldn't argue with that. Seeing her in the pigtails had been enough teasing for the moment. Grabbing her hair, he began twisting it over itself. Braiding it into one long piece and then securing that with one of the discarded ribbons.
"Is this better?"
Using her good hand she pulled it around to the front to look at it. "Much, where did you learn this? Mae?"
"Brennan actually."
Chris was too confused to be stiff at hearing his name in these contexts.
"It was an odd phase he had around 16-17. He likes to pretend it never happened, but I remember it well." Zeven used his hands to illustrate how long his hair had been, a few inches below his shoulder.
"Why?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"So you're saying you don't know?"
"I know, but I have been sworn to secrecy."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"
Zeven put his hands over his heart, and dramatically gasped at her. "Chris you wound me so. I would never lie to you." His theatrical charade lasted a few more seconds before it melted into a pleasant smile. "Also, you have 15 minutes to get ready."
"Ready for what?"
"14 Minutes, 56 seconds. 55. 54. 53-"
"Tell me what for."
"51. 50. 49."
It was obvious that he had no intention of telling her his plan, and there was nothing she could do to change his mind. So Chris began making her way towards her room to change her clothes.
Stepping into a clean pair of trousers was the easy part, buttoning them was harder. Her injured shoulder ached when she tried to maneuver her arm into a better position to help hold the fabric together. But she did eventually manage to get the button secured.
Before she put on her shirt she grabbed her boots and crammed her foot into one. The boots were plain black and military issued. Lacing up the front with a small pocket on the outermost side. Sitting on the side of the bed she moved her leg in closer propping it on the conner of the bed frame to get it within reach of her arms. She tucked her pant leg down into her boot before she began lacing. Finishing with one, she tied the other.
Now to getting her shirt on she looked through the several shirts that Zeven had given her. They were all fairly loose, but none were going to be particularly easy to put on. Finally deciding on the white one, she shook it out and laid it on the bed. She tucked her braided hair under the strap of her bra to keep it out of her way.
Considering the best way to put the shirt on she concluded that the easiest way would be the same way she had gotten her bra on the first day her shoulder was injured. A few days had passed so she had more mobility in the joint, but there was pain that accompanied moving it. Grabbing the shirt, she put her injured arm through its respective sleeve and worked in up to her armpit to give her as much room as possible to get her head through.
It took her a minute but her shirt was now on. The idea of using the secret passage back to Zeven's room to hide from him amused her, but she refrained. Instead she walked down the flight of stairs to the door.
Opening the door she was treated to the sight of Zeven leaning on the wall by the door.
"You're late."
"Are you sure you didn't count wrong? It can be very challenging to the simple minded."
Zeven and Chris locked eyes. A smirk lingered on her face.
"I think I should get to punish you know." giving her a suggestive look.
"I think having to deal with you every day is punishment enough." She began to walk past him. He easily caught her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Does that mean your egear to see what I've planned for the day?"
Chris sighed, but did not try to break out of his grip. It was a useless action anyway, as he could grab her again with little trouble.
He hugged her from behind, making sure not to hurt her shoulder. He held her for a few more seconds, enjoying the knowledge that Chris was beginning to squirm, before finally releasing her. "We should get going, lots to do today."
He didn't say anything else as she sauntered downstairs and out the front door. She stood motionless as hurricane Zeven blew away. After a few moments she followed behind.