“Hey, hair.”
After getting out of the bath, I called out to 🌸, who was walking around with water dripping from the ends of her hair. Her clothes were getting wet too, which was absolutely ridiculous as a matter of common sense.
“I was just about to dry it.”
“No, I’ll do it.”
When I stopped her in the hallway, 🌸 looked up at me with a dissatisfied expression.
“I’m not a kid, I can do it myself.”
“You’ll just dry it carelessly and go to sleep with it half-dry anyway.”
“What do you think I am…?”
I knew that if I forced my way through like this, she would eventually give in. And that’s how I had succeeded in drying her hair several times before.
“There’s really nothing in here, huh.”
“Shut up…”
When I pulled her into my room, she always made some comment about the room. I made 🌸 sit down casually on the floor, then sat down behind her and pulled her between my legs. That was 🌸’s usual spot.
When I turned on the hair dryer, warm air burst out with a noisy sound. The familiar scent of shampoo and soap mixed together. I carefully warmed each strand of hair as my fingers slipped through them.
“You smell nice.”
I murmured softly, just loud enough to be drowned out by the hair dryer. 🌸 quietly replied, “Thanks.” I could tell the base of her ears had turned slightly red.
Seeing that reaction made it impossible to resist the urge to get closer, to touch her more. While moving the dryer, I deliberately let my fingertips slide. Pretending to part her hair, I gently traced her neck and her reddening earlobes. Then she jolted visibly, a big shiver running through her body.
“...Don’t move.”
She gave me a blaming look, but I kept a blank expression and continued working as if nothing were happening. As if confirming the feel of her soft skin, I traced the line of her neck again and again, and tickled the area behind her ears.
(…I can’t push this any further.)
Watching her back tremble as she lost all escape between my legs made my self-control waver, and I started to fear myself.
If I kept doing reckless things as an onmyoji, I might die someday. I’d swallowed back the words “I like you” and “I want to date you” countless times before they could leave my throat.
If it’s not going to happen, I’d rather throw down the hair dryer right now, hug her from behind, and lock her up with me. But I told myself that as long as she stayed here as mine, I had nothing to complain about, and I kept desperately holding back until my reason nearly broke.