Nymphet

Chapter 2

Trial and error

The Shadow Gallery

It had become a little token of politeness for V; he'd never thought of it before, he'd never thought he'd ever need to do something like that either. The first time it happened, the words came out so easily that he knew they were missing from his mind only after they'd already abandoned it. He didn't know why he'd said anything like that but it seemed so right and so… normal in so many ways that he got used to repeating the pattern right away.

Tonight he'd do it again and as before, his simple and apparently innocent statement would be answered with a shy smile and a look of barely suppressed concern. He would tilt his head like saying "yes, I'll be careful" and those worried eyes would give up and hope for the best.

He was still unsure about telling her plainly about his "other looks". So far she'd only seen the Fawkes one –his personal favorite- but there were many others far less conspicuous that allowed him to move practically freely in the streets and even interact with people other than Evey or his unwilling "clients".

He liked going out right after sunset, even better during winter when natural light could no longer betray him and he could complete the image with hats, coats, scarves and knit gloves, just the sort normal people could get. He had fun dressing up and going out when the hour was still early enough to find people walking home from work. Just people, regular folk trying to live despite the grayness of their world.

He practiced his acting skills with store clerks mostly, after all they were used to seeing dozens of individuals every day and if they didn't notice anything amiss, it wasn't likely anyone else would. Black market people were a greater achievement given their natural tendency to distrust everyone. V had still managed to make a handful of useful connections among them, although he always kept his distance.

But his favorite thing, what he enjoyed the most was to walk into a store and actually buy things. Lately those things weren't for his personal use. Not everything Evey wore had been stolen from warehouses and more than once he'd spent up to one hour inside poorly lit stores, right before closing time, picking things for her, mixing the excitement of not getting caught with that of finding pretty things he thought she might like.

It was definitely an advantage that his skills stretched far beyond explosives and being able to subtract money from here and there simply by manipulating a few bank account numbers proved being of vast help for years. He loathed finding himself lacking resources of any kind.

His efforts to have her wear nice things had more to do with personal pride than with politeness for a guest or with guilt for making her lose most of her material possessions –except that awful purse- when he'd imposed his hospitality on her after the Jordan Tower incident.

At first his selection had been a broad one and he'd brought her pretty much anything he could find on her size, then all he had to do was keep an eye on what she actually wore and seemed comfortable with. Next time he refined the search and the percentage of what she favored improved as a result.

Evey wasn't exactly a fashion genius but V didn't care, if she was happy with her new wardrobe, so was he. There was one sort of garments he had a preference for, though; underwear. He had no previous idea he had that little kink inside of him, never having to search for ladies lingerie before, but it was clear since the beginning that those little pieces of cloth were nothing like blouses or skirts.

He'd blushed the first time they had even discussed the subject and he still did just by remembering. As soon as she had understood what really meant having to stay in the Shadow Gallery for a whole year, she was dismayed to discover that it would be very difficult –if not impossible- to send V to her little apartment to recover anything from there so she owned only the clothes she was wearing.

V had devoted the next several trips above to finding things for Evey, from shampoo to, yes, underwear. He tried to stick to what appeared to be simple and practical, matching sets in pastels, commonly available and definitely plain. They all stopped seeming plain the minute he remembered they were for Evey and just thinking on it charged them with erotic meaning.

V didn't even want to look at them when it was time to present them to her for fear she'd notice his interest; he'd put everything in a dark plastic bag –in general he didn't like plastic in his home but sometimes it was useful- all mixed with other things she needed and then leave it on her bed when she was taking a bath or watching television. He didn't think he could stand the sight of her emptying the bag to see what he'd brought with him there, watching the whole thing, which of course did not keep him from trying to figure out which set she'd be wearing afterwards.

It was almost time to finish getting ready and with perfect synchronicity the door guarding Evey's room creaked announcing that its occupant would soon invade the rest of his house. V paused briefly to look at Evey's reflection in the lit mirror of his makeup table, right across the hall from her room. He put the comb aside and moved slightly to the left; he wanted to see the whole thing. There, she'd just found him and her little feet carried her on his direction.

It would be midnight soon, he could tell. He'd repeated the same actions so many times that they'd become a ritual, his personal meditation style with the small television set next to the makeup table providing the background sound, until she came.

Evey looked sleepy already, even though she didn't have to get up before dawn to go to work as before, and could stay up for as long as she wanted, her sleeping patterns hadn't changed much since he'd turned her into an involuntary guest and she still needed to sleep at night regardless of how hard she tried to stay up and wait for him. He'd told her she didn't have to and admitted that sometimes he didn't know for sure when he'd be back but she still did it at least twice every week.

V was used to a much more flexible schedule and many times brief naps during the day were enough to keep him alert and rested, especially when he was very busy. He'd steal 15 minutes here, an hour there and that was usually enough. Of course he also liked to indulge and there were evenings when all he wanted was to take a long bath and then conveniently forget putting on clothes of any sort to just sleep from dusk until dawn.

It was a shame that he hadn't been able to sleep like that in a while, now having company to entertain but such company made life more interesting, especially when he made her blush with some slightly loaded comment or when she wasn't throwing a fit.

There were also other things he'd pondered doing lately, during his bath or in the privacy of his bedroom. Yes, he still had enough of that scented oil he liked so much; it felt cold and warm at the same time. It wouldn't be difficult to imagine a pair of small hands using it on him. Soon, he reminded himself; there would be time to use his mind exclusively for fun but first he wanted to have his timing right, being a slightly noisy fellow; something he'd never had to worry about before.

Sometimes he wondered what Evey would do if she heard him one of those nights, playing. That was a side of him he rarely pondered but his nature seemed to like the finer side of things and there was great enjoyment in beauty that stimulated his senses.

He'd just concluded a week or so ago that Evey could actually notice the difference in his mood when he touched his sensual side. He'd caught her staring at him with a curious expression on afternoon when he was listening to a song playing on the jukebox. He'd been leaning on his precious toy, swaying to the notes of "Miss Celie's Blues" thinking that since she was taking a bath, he'd have some time alone, at least enough for a couple songs.

The song ended and it was only then that he noticed she was there, wrapped in her new bath robe and toweling her hair. Obviously she'd been there for a while already, just looking at him. He'd been thoroughly caught in fault so instead of trying to come up with an excuse, he settled for greeting her and resuming his chores, thinking on the way she'd been looking at him. For a while she insisted on following him around the house, until he got distracted and his thoughts went back to his work. Then she'd lost interest.

He still hadn't figured out why that happened but it was perhaps a matter of body language reflecting his thoughts; if he was thinking on pleasant things, his way to move would change accordingly and being the only other person there, Evey would have nobody else to distract her.

Maybe it was something much more primitive, like the sound of his voice or even smells. He suspected a beast hid inside that small body. He was a practical man and one weapon was as good as the next so learning about this was an entertaining hobby. Either case he thought it would be distasteful to exaggerate and that too much of it –whatever it was- would probably offend her. Better to put those thoughts away before he got too carried away.

It was curious; she always refrained from entering the makeup room, she'd stand in the hall or perhaps even lean on the columns that supported the arch, almost hiding behind the deep red drapes but she wouldn't enter. Perhaps one day he'd ask her about it, after all the only places he never allowed her into were simply locked, like his bedroom or chambers where chemicals or electronics were stored.

There were some benefits to wearing a mask, such as not being scolded for glancing at sleepy girls in pink pajamas, thought V, quite amused and wondering if Evey would notice when he was looking at her if instead of doing it directly, he used polished surfaces, such as his mirror. Well, that was an interesting thought; if he couldn't look at her directly because she'd feel it, perhaps there was another way…

"Evening, V" Greeted the sleepy voice behind him.

"Good evening, mademoiselle" Replied V, remembering for half a second a certain vial of oil, which only made his voice come out as a seductive purring. He finished combing the bangs on the wig. "How do we fare tonight?" He abandoned the comb on the table and stood up to look at his dressing progress in the wall mirror. Now if she stood a little to the left, V thought, he might be able to put his hypothesis to the test as well…

"Almost ready for bed, I suppose" Came the slightly disappointed reply. Well, if she wanted him to stay, she should be able to come up with something that made the thought tempting enough. It was almost time for giving Evey her token of politeness. V walked to where she stood, still not done putting on his whole attire but very close.

"Good, then I'll wish you have pleasant dreams. I'm going out tonight but I expect to be back before dawn" There, he didn't have to let her know anything about his comings and goings but he did it anyway and as often as he could.

"All right" She replied, complete with the "be careful, will you?" look. He had to admit he expected to see it because it made him feel wanted, which was a complete novelty. "New shirt?" She added.

"Yes. I did not think you'd notice. Do you approve?" Oh, he was putting up a whole production this time, practically modeling for her, unable to refrain from conducting the last test of the night before going out. Then she reached out and touched him slowly, her hand running up and down his arm, feeling the dark silk and making him shiver unexpectedly.

"Oh yes, lovely indeed…"

Well, apparently that thing -whatever it was- worked both ways, so very interesting. They looked at each other for several seconds more than strictly necessary and finally Evey broke the spell, turning to leave as she wished him a profitable evening and a safe return.

V remained frozen watching her walking back to her room and closing the door behind her and it took some effort to remember he wasn't done getting ready for his night out.