Two: When She's Mad

Disclaimer: Do not own.

The blade was cold against her flesh.

It was morning. Tentatively, the first light of the day stole in through the blinds, bathing the tiles in a tired grey light. Here, she could still detect his scent. A trace of cologne mixed with something else. A subtle muskiness that, despite the years of experience in dabbling in potions and perfumes alike, stealthily escaped recognition. She closed her eyes, letting the ghost of him caress her cheeks, her skin, her senses.

It was... it was -

It was the scent of twilight, his cheek against her hair, her fingers against his skin, raking a pallid path down the uneven landscape of his chest, his breath warm, so warm - his voice low, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. Her lips curled up in a sleepy smile.

It was -

the scent of winter. Sitting across each other by the fireplace; the fire crackling, his face fractured by the flickering shadows. A glass of wine in hand. A deliciously thick book in lap. Savouring each other's company. Outside, it was snowing. And as the sky darkened, the tick-tick-ticking of the grandfather clock slurring to one single, monotonous note, she could feel his mind began to wonder. Feeling... no, knowing, that his eyes had long lost interest of the book. Reading, now, the lines of her body instead. Drinking in her eyes (she had to force down a knowing smile, fighting to keep her eyes on the page), her nose, her neck, her collarbone...

It was the scent of him.

Akako slid one careful finger across the razor blade. Just one morning ago it had been on his flesh. The coolness of the metal as sure as a day ago as it was now. Morning after morning, the dip in the bed, the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. With a few fluid, measured strokes the blade had grazed against the stubborn stubble of his jaw. Soft, bare flesh prepped for her feathery kisses.

Akako opened her eyes.

He was gone.

"Mistress, are you all right?"

The heavy footsteps paused outside the door.

With a sigh, Akako gathered herself from the edge of the bathtub. Running one hand through her perfect (what else?) red tresses, she went to the door and slid it open.

"Mistress -"

"Here you go, Oni." The razor blade was slipped into the ogre's hand so slickly that the servant blinked, unable to comprehend the gift.

"Mistress, isn't this Master Hakuba's -"

"Oh, no, of course not," Akako said airily. "From now on, it will be your personal leg hair remover."

A/n: I have no idea what Akako's servant's name is... so being the absolutely creative person that I am, he shall be known as "Oni" (ogre).

And yes, Hakuba was kicked out of the house. But more on that later. I'm evil. =D

Happy Reading~!