“Oh, so that’s how it is?” he asks the rhetorical question lowly, smirk already formed on his face. “I’ve seen much more already, you know?”
“That’s not the point! You can’t just walk in here and–”
“Point taken. It’s our home, and I can go where I please within it.”
Her comment was far more feeble though - a resignation that this stubborn man-child of a demon wasn’t going to budge, and it’s not as though she could just get up out of the tub to shove him out of the room, either.
“Let me join you.” he says, already shrugging off his haori. “I’m wet anyway, thanks to you.” Chizuru shoots him a glare, to which he only laughs at. “What?” he asks, “do you not trust me?”
“You know that’s not it.”
He laughs, “yeah, yeah,” a hand waving in mild dismissal. “At least let me wash your hair. It’s always pleasantly soft to touch. Like a cat.” To that, she sighs, and lets out a resigned, drawn out, ‘fine’. Chikage’s victory. The best he can get for now; he wouldn’t go against her wishes after all, no matter what he wanted. Of course that won’t make him stop making what he wants quite clear, but he’ll never take or do what he wants without her approval.
The only reason he persists in removing at least the top half of his clothing, is the fact it will be a hindrance as he tries to wash her hair - but as he is wearing a kimono, he has to compromise with taking his arms out of the sleeves and simply letting it hang at the waist over the tie. It would be indecent otherwise. Of course that also means he has to be careful with how he positions himself - getting the sleeves in the water would completely defeat the object of taking them off.
He perches himself on the edge, careful to ensure the sleeve of his right side facing the water is caught on his lap and between his legs. “Come here,” he states, reaching for Chizuru (who upon request does in fact scoot backward) so that he can run his fingers through her hair. Wet, it isn’t quite so soft to touch, but it doesn’t bother him - since regardless of his comments this is just something he wants to do.
“What were you going to use?”
She reaches and hands him a small bottle.
“I bought it today. When we were out.”
“Oh?” She was sneaky with that one then. He looks down, and reads the fragrance of the vial. Forget me not. To many it probably seems trivial, or maybe strange, but with what the pair of them have been through it’s more the words than the scent itself that has meaning. He wastes no time in making use of it, either.
He massages the suds into her hair, feels her steadily relaxing more into his touch - until he chuckles, and she’s immediately on edge again. “What?” he asks.
“You’re up to something.”
“Is that so?” he questions with a false air of innocence, “close your eyes.” he commands, and in that instant she’s shooting him that look of ‘this is exactly what I’m talking about’. “Do you want the soap in your eyes?” And she shakes her head and relents just as quickly. He doesn’t doubt her suspicions still linger - he’s a mischievous devil and he knows it, and it’s why he’s always getting into trouble with her.
With her eyes firmly closed, Chikage makes the effort to wash her hair out with the water - continuing to run his hands through the strands. But, of course, he can’t resist the temptation, and while she is leaning back takes the opportunity to lean over and while upside down press his lips to hers. He laughs quite blatantly when he knows she’s realised, and pulls away enough to look down at her pouting at him.
“And who would I be to disappoint those expectations?”
