Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

Stylist

i fUCKED UP-–

You probably didn't notice but Jshzhsjjsjs last chapter Lust said something about them getting ready for like interviews or something, but they're actually getting ready for the tribute parade sisissiuzuxisisis sOrRy-–

"Good luuucckkk~!" Lust called as he walked off down the hallway, Nick begrudgingly trudging along by his side.

Cross gulped, timidly knocking on the door he'd been left in front of. Nothing happened for a moment, and his anxiety seemed to spike for some reason. But then the doors swung open and two people in full medical suits and masks stood in front of him.

"O-Oh-- I must have the w-wrong room, Sorry. I-I'm supposed to be meeting my stylist?" He stuttered, quickly taking a step back to run.

But the staff weren't having that. They grabbed onto both of his arms harshly, tugging him inside and locking the door shut behind them. "You see her in a minute. We clean you first."

"C-Clean me? What do you mean?" Cross let out a squeak as his top was suddenly pulled off of him, leaving his top half exposed. "H-Hey?!"

"These clothes old. We get you new ones." Whoever the second staff member was, they had a heavy accent.

The smol tried to protest, but wasn't listened to and dragged over to one of those tables you'd typically see used for surgery. He was pushed down onto it, his back pressed uncomfortably against the cold metal.

The two staff members made quick work of tugging all his clothes off and tossing them to the side while muttering under their breaths about how filthy he was. One of them pulled the locket off and went to toss it with the rest, but Cross quickly cried out in protest.

"N-No! Not that please!" He reached out, quickly snatching it from their grasp and clutching it to his chest.

"Nothing is allowed to be kept." One grunted, holding out a hand for it impatiently. "Now hand it over."

Cross shook his head feverishly, scooting back on the table and pressing his knees against his chest to hide himself a bit more. "I-If you take it I'll kick and scream and bite and be completely uncooperative. But I-I'll behave fully and let you do whatever you want if I can keep it!"

They both looked at him irritably, staring at him with glares so sharp they could probably slice him in half. After a minute of complete silence one of them groaned loudly, throwing their hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine! You can keep it."

Cross sunk down with relief, clutching it tightly. "Thank you..."

"Give here. I place over there." The accented one grunted, jerking his head back to indicate over to the table a few metres away from the bed that were full of all kinds of equipment that sent shudders down Cross' spine.

Not wanting to anger them anymore, he hesitantly placed the locket into his hand.

The staff rolled his eyes, trudging over to the table and dropping it carelessly on the end before spinning on his heels and walking back over to Cross. "Now lie down."

He really didn't want to, but he obeyed and slowly slid down until he was resting uncomfortably on his back again, feeling rather exposed. "R-Remind me what you're going to do to me?"

"Clean away the filth." Was all they said before he was suddenly hit with two blasts of freezing cold water.

Cross shrieked.

——————

"Wait here. Emily will be here soon." The staff muttered, pushing the smol rather harshly into a brightly lit room.