The Beauty Of Death (COMPLETE)

Mmhm

Amara Quinn-

I relaxed in the bath, my entire body just calmed, the bathroom smelt like the soap he used and it was very nice.

Two knocks came onto the door.

"Yeah?" I sat up, grabbing the bubbles and covering myself.

"I have makeup remover and a towel. I can send Aphrodite, or just leave it outside the door." He said in a monotone voice.

"The bubbles are covering me, you can come in, I'll probably fall if I tried to walk and grab a towel while I'm soaking wet." I laughed to myself as he walked in.

He avoided looking in my direction as he set the towel next to the tub.

"I didn't know if you liked the wipes or the cotton pads with the fancy water better so I got both." He finally looked at me and I nodded.

"I appreciate it, thank you. Can I have the cotton and remover now? I can feel my mascara on my face." I reached out and he handed a cotton pad to me.

My hands were soaked.

"C-can you do it? I didn't realize my hands were in the water, I usually try to keep them dry." I mumbled, a tad bit shy.

He grabbed the cotton that I had, tossing it as he grabbed a new one, coming beside the tub, sinking gently to his knees.

He unclipped his tunic and it fell behind him, exposing his taught, muscular shoulders and tatted neck.

I don't think I had noticed that until now.

"Close your eyes." He whispered.

I did, he pressed the cotton pad to my left eye, gently rubbing, his hand grabbing my jaw.

"Sorry I keep moving my head back." I said as my face kept slipping from his grip against the pressure he applied.

His hand came around my throat instead, my thighs immediately closing under the water as he had a good grip on my throat, his thumb and pointer finger on my lower jaw, his palm covering the entirety of my throat.

I didn't mean to feel this way, I'd never felt like this in real life.

Maybe when I read smut or really steamy scenes in my books but that's fiction. I marry this man in a week.

I will be here for all eternity.

He removed both of his hands, getting a new pad, dampening it, his hand coming back onto my throat with no hesitation as he did my right eye.

"Open." He said and I did, I looked up as he got underneath my eyes.

He folded the pad so the edge went under my lower lashes.

I trusted he got it all off as he wiped my nose, looking at the pad with disgust.

"You didn't need all this makeup." He murmured, getting a new pad, his hand coming back to my throat, lifting my chin slightly.

He got my forehead, chin, cheeks.

"Is there a lot?" I whispered.

"Too much for you." He responded.

"What do you mean 'for me'?" I asked.

"You don't need it. If you were to do it yourself because the action of doing it makes you happy, that would be very different. I'd understand. But she packed this shit onto you're face." He answered.

He wiped the pad over my lips, getting off the matte lipstick she had used under the gloss earlier.

"Do you never smile?" I asked.

The corner of his lips lifted but dropped within a blink.

"I do." He answered.

He set the pad down but kept his hand in place, his thumb came up, wiping leftover glitter from my lips.

I was just silent as he used his thumbs to remove glitter, leftover mascara, leftover lipstick.

He kissed my forehead before quickly standing.

He looked at my throat.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No." I touched it.

He hummed and left quietly.

Alrighty then.