Work Text:
The sound of wind out the window was the only thing to be heard. Well, aside from the brush used to brush out your hair. The moonlight creeped in past the curtains as you stood in front of a mirror, making sure you didn’t miss any odd spots. Starting from the bottom to the top, avoiding breakage. It was oddly quiet. Peaceful, some could argue. With the soft hush of wind against foliage, the sway of tree branches shifting the shadows from the moon… it was almost therapeutic.
You moved to another segment of your hair, carefully beginning to start the process again. This one was closer to the back of your hair. Tonight you worked slowly, having the extra time to place a bit more care in your movements. The time to pause when your brush snagged, to set it down and attempt to deal with it in a tactile way. One particular area seemed to pull, so you set the brush down. Your hands moved to the spot, attempting to untangle whatever knot your hair had gotten itself into.
It was unrelenting. You huffed, staring at yourself in the mirror, then the knot. Maybe if you stared it down, it’d behave.
“Need some help, my pet?”
The sudden, yet familiar, voice made you jump. You couldn’t see Elijah in the mirror, due to his vampiric state. And it didn’t help that the man basically just appeared out of nowhere when you least expected it. You turn to face him, hands still up in your hair. He, in all his smug glory, had a grin to his face as he watched you jump out of your skin.
“You got to stop doing that. I swear, I’ll die of a heart attack before you have the opportunity to change me into a vampire.” You sighed, “I haven’t a clue how you’d help. Unless you’re a master hair-knot undoer…”
Elijah let out a laugh at your statement. He motioned up to his own hair, “Darling. Do you see these luscious locks? I have seen a knot too many in my time. Of course I know how to undo knots, on a level such as ‘mastery.’ Let me.”
You couldn’t help but give in, maybe a tad reluctantly. You turned back to the mirror, letting go of the knot yourself. You could trust him enough. He seemed to sing such high praise of his ability, why not allow him a shot? The worst thing that could happen is you lost a chunk of hair. Which… is actually quite devastating.
His hands gently moved to the bundled mass of hair. “I have no clue why you did not simply call for help,” he started, working it out. “It is on the back of your head. Surely you cannot see it that well.”
“Well, I had just started when you decided to spawn into existence again. I was handling it quite fine…” you tried to argue back.
He tugged a little, letting out a soft apology under his breath. He seemed to be quite focused on helping you out with whatever was happening in your hair. It didn’t take long for him to finish up, and he rested his hand on your shoulder. His palm laid upwards, “May I have the brush, please?”
With swift compliance, soon he began to brush out your hair. It wasn’t his initial offer, but who were you to complain? There was something intimate in having someone brush your hair, vice versa. The innate trust that they would be gentle was an unwritten rule. Elijah seemed to follow this rule quite well. Anytime he’d remotely tug, he would be mumbling out an apology. It was sweet, if anything. The simple knowledge that he was truly trying his best to not pull your hair from your scalp was sweet. It was the kind of intimacy that was needed on a quiet, slow night like this.
Elijah was just as slow and careful with the brushing as you were before. Section by section, bottom to top. Then he’d brush out the section to be sure it was all brushed. When he finished up, he placed your hair in front of your shoulders. His hands smoothed it out, then moved to rest on your shoulders.
“Is it to your liking, my thrall?” He questioned, his head on your left side. You could hear his voice clearer from that side, at least.
You nodded, smiling at where you’d assume he would be in the mirror. “Yes. Thank you, Elijah. You were quite good at undoing the knot.”
You turned again to properly face him, met again with his grin. That stupid look. If you could show him how he looked, he’d probably… no, honestly, it’d get to his head. It’d simply inflate his ego more, you felt.
“I told you, pet, I am as you prophesied, a ‘master knot undoer.’” He put your words in air quotes as he mentioned it.
This, of course, only earned an eye roll from you. You took your brush back, setting it where it belonged. “Would you like me to brush your hair? Must be hard for you to see the back even more since you cannot see yourself.”
“I think you’re forgetting,” he tutted, “water reflects. Besides, that task is done. You, my dear, need sleep. Off you go now, do not let me keep you.”
Ah, yes, the reason you began to brush your hair in the first place. For sleep. Having knots get worse as your head turned in your pillow sounded quite unpleasant. You just nod at his words.
You made the mistake of blinking. As you did, he was gone again. That, or lurking somewhere in the corner of your eye. Either way, he had left you to rest. So rest you’ll do, to hopefully wake to him in the following morn.