Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Morning Ritual ❯ Morning Ritual ( Chapter 1 )

Morning Ritual

 

 

Every creature needed to sleep sometimes, even nobodies, and as such, even nobodies had to follow a basic morning routine: waking, getting dressed, brushing their teeth, etc.

 

Of course, not all nobodies had the same needs, and their respective morning ritual differed for each of them. Some took more time, some less, and Marluxia was one of those who took more time.

 

Unlike what some of the others liked to think and say, although never within hearing range of Marluxia, it was not because Marluxia spent hours styling his hair or making out with his reflection in the mirror. He did not cut his wrists, take drugs or stick his fingers at the back of his throat either. The reason for his taking more time was both simpler and more sinister than what they thought…

 

A shrill beeping sound was heard in Marluxia's room, and a hand swiftly shot out from under the sheets, slamming down on the offending alarm clock, effectively silencing it. Marluxia sat up and stretched with a groan, glancing blearily out of the window. It was an ordinary morning, as far as he could tell from the perpetually dark sky, but that suited him just fine. For some reason, the prospect of his usual shower and shave always brought a smile to his face.

 

He turned to the small form still huddled in the sheets next to him, and reached under to tickle sensitive skin. A small protesting squeak emanated from the bundle of satin, and a little blond head peaked out to look at him warily. “Come now, Naminé, it's time to get up”, he whispered, leaning down to nuzzle her nose with his.

 

“Mmh, why do you always do that?” she asked, pulling away the sheets to get out of bed. “To hear you ask me that question every single morning”, he replied with a chuckle, getting up also. She had nothing to say to that, and so she dutifully entered the bathroom as he instructed her to do with a significant glance.

 

Marluxia followed behind his charge, pausing to watch her retrieve his razor and the shaving supplies before he went to the shower stall and turned on the water. He adjusted the temperature and cleared his throat significantly when Naminé took too long for his liking.

 

She hurried to his side and swiftly undid his pajama trousers, his only piece of clothing, as he made his usual monologue. “I admit, I was not too happy with the Superior when he entrusted you to me, but now I can see that there are some advantages to looking after you” he said pleasantly, stepping out of his pants and entering the shower.

 

She fought down a resentful glare and went back to the bedroom to prepare his uniform, as she was expected to do each and every morning while Marluxia showered. She was back in the bathroom when he exited the stall, holding a towel ready to dry him.

 

She always averted her eyes to avoid seeing him naked, which he never commented on, but sometimes he would deliberately drop the towel wrapped around his waist when she was facing him, if just to see the blush that never failed to overrun her face when he did.

 

“Your turn, pet”, he said affectionately, bending down to grab the hem of her nightshirt, slowly pulling it up and removing it entirely. She hurried inside the still running shower to hide herself, leaving Marluxia to snicker and dress himself. He went to the wardrobe to get Naminé's dress, some underwear from the dresser and her sandals from next to the door.

 

He put on the clothes Naminé had laid out for him, except his heavy coat, and brought her own clothes back to the bathroom, just in time to see her wrap a towel around her nude form.

 

“Tsk, you are always in such a hurry in the morning. What a shame”, he commented, petting her wet hair gently. He took another towel, a smaller one, and proceeded to dry her hair while she stood frozen on the spot, waiting for the ordeal to be over. She knew that the worst part was coming, but there was always a chance that he himself was in a hurry and would shorten her torment.

 

Once he was done with the drying, he picked up a lovely white comb from the cabinet and gently untangled her blond strands, ever so careful not to pull her hair. He always showed extra care when he combed her hair, his free hand never failing to find the nape of her neck or her shoulder, reaching around to stroke her delicate throat, fingers sometimes tightening in warning when she fidgeted too much.

 

His task done, he replaced the white comb with a larger, black one, and held it out to her. Naminé took the offered object and stepped behind Marluxia, who sat down on the floor, and began to run the comb through the long, pink locks. That was the only time when she could attempt conversation with him, out of reach of his hands.

 

“I don't think Xemnas meant this when he told you to look after me” she remarked quietly, careful not to pull at his mane. He never said anything if she did, but the sudden tension in his frame was warning enough for her. An appreciative chuckle. “Maybe so, my dear little witch, but as long as you are kept fed and healthy, he could care less what I do to you”, he said, turning to look at her suggestively. She blushed, but nonetheless ceased her present activity to grab the sides of his head and turn his face away, with a dry “hold still, I'm not done”.

 

He laughed loudly at her tone, but obeyed nonetheless. “Yes m'am”, he mocked, still laughing. After what seemed an eternity to her, Marluxia's hair was finally done. He stood up, taking the comb from her hand and placing it back next to the sink.

 

“Well, only one thing left”, he told her, sitting down on a chair he had retrieved from the back of the bathroom. She sighed and went for the razor, soap and brush, grabbed a towel he reserved specifically for this part of his morning routine and climbed onto his lap, his arms instantly wrapping around her waist.

 

She touched his cheek with the palm of her hand, feeling the rough hair that would need to be removed, leaving smooth, soft skin in the razor's wake. Marluxia used a straight blade razor, meaning that she had to be very careful not to nick his face, otherwise the consequences would be dire. She remembered the first time she had made such a mistake, and she wished she could forget. He had let her finish, but when she had been done, he had wrested the blade from her hand and brushed the blade down her face, the metal barely touching her.

 

“You most hold the razor gently, Naminé”, he had instructed, “and move it very slowly across the skin. Be careful not to apply too much pressure, otherwise you might do some permanent damage. We wouldn't want that, now would we?” he had said, holding the sharp edge firmly against her lips, and she had expressed her understanding in a small voice, afraid to move her lips against the cold object.

 

Coming back to the present, Naminé prepared a lather with the brush and soap Marluxia kept in lieu of shaving cream. He was really old fashioned in some of his habits. The soap was lavender scented, and soon the smell had permeated the entire bathroom. She pushed Marluxia's hair out of the way and began to apply the cream to his face.

 

This was the part Marluxia liked the best. The feel of the coarse brush on his face, leaving a coating of white foam behind, and Naminé's hand holding his hair back or gently tilting his face to make her job easier, was pure delight to him. She eventually put the brush away and picked up the razor, opened the blade, then took a deep breath to steady her hand.

 

This was the trickiest part for both of them. As mush as Marluxia wanted to fool around, he had to contain himself, otherwise Naminé would give him a scar to rival Xigbar's, and Naminé was terrified at the prospect of marring the perfect features he was so proud of. “Take your time”, he told her soothingly, leaning back, still holding her firmly in place.

 

She held the blade as he had showed her, and delicately placed it on his face, just above the part covered in foamy soap. She took another deep breath, and slowly began to drag the blade down, removing the unwanted hairs from Marluxia's face. She wiped the blade on the towel she had placed on his shoulder, and reached up for a second swipe down his face.

 

The worst part of this was that Marluxia's eyes never left hers, even when she turned his head to make her work easier, his intense stare unnerving her. She forced down the trembling of her hand and continued, until at last it was over, and Marluxia's face was as smooth as flower petals. She put away the razor, picked up the towel and folded it to wipe away the excess soap from Marluxia's skin.

 

He stroked his cheeks lightly, feeling for any stubble she might have missed, and gave a nod of approval when he did not find any. “Very good, Naminé. The lotion now”, he ordered. She climbed off of him to get the bottle of lotion, opened it and poured some into her hand. She rubbed her hands together and applied the sweet scented liquid to his face.

 

“Good girl. I take my leave now. Work on your drawings while I am gone, my pretty. I will see you later”. He said, taking her hand and leading her to her work room, where he kept the drawing supplies. She sat down on her little white chair, picked up her crayons and began work on another picture.

 

He kissed her lightly on the cheek and left, leaving her alone at last. She breathed through her nose, and the smell of lavender and lilac assaulted her. Even when he was gone, he still managed to haunt her.