Stitched Up Hearts (Alucard X Fem! reader)

Steering Is Good

(six years prior)

"Your hair is going to get into your face if you leave it down like that." I told him when he came out from his room. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, and tan pants. "Come here." I beckon, pushing past him and into his room. I'd become rather familiar with it now, his childhood bedroom. The bed was made, as usual, and books were stacked high on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of his bed, my feet hanging off onto the floor. I pointed at the space between my feet, "sit," I ordered.

Adrian cocked an eyebrow, but complied anyway. I grabbed the ivory comb from his drawer, and began to brush out his hair. "You really do have the most gorgeous hair." I complimented, running it through my fingers to admire the way the light bounced off it. "Blond suits you very well."

"Thank you." Adrian seemed to practically bristle with pride at my accolade. He leaned into my touch, like a stray cat pressing their head into your hand.

I pulled the hair back from his face, fingers brushing against the smooth skin of his cheekbones. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair back before." I hum, separating the golden hair into three pieces.

"Having my hair pulled back hurts my scalp." Adrian explained. Shifting his position on the floor so he was cross legged, visibly relaxing. "But your hands feel nice."

"Stop moving." I was reprimanded. "I'll be sure not to braid too tightly then." I said, loosening the braid a little so that it wasn't pulling his hair. Finishing up the ends you pull a piece of ribbon from your pocket and tie off his hair with a bow. "There, all done. Now turn around and let me admire my handiwork."

He stood up, pulling the braid gently over his shoulder. "You're the only person other than my mother who's ever done my hair." Adrian noted. "Now, come on, we don't have all day."

I groaned, hoping he'd forget his plan to make me go along with him outside. "I don't have winter clothes." I tried to reason, trailing behind Adrian and complaining all the while. This morning he'd woken me up to point out the fresh layer of snow that had fallen outside my window. I was never particularly fond of winters, since in Wallachia all it meant was cold and slush, the snow melting faster when people walked on it. And it was dirty, mixing with the mud on the streets.

"This one should fit you." Lisa pulled out a cloak and a pair of thick winter boots. Adrian had pushed me into her room, insisting I'd find winter clothes there, despite my protests. "You can keep them, I don't wear them very often." she promised, draping the fabric across my arms and putting the boots into my hand. This cloak was far warmer than anything I'd ever been able to make or wear before. It was made of thick leather, and the inside was lined with fur of some kind. A hood was even attached to it, and a set of matching gloves lay in the pockets.

"Thank you." I want to decline, to tell her it's really too much, but I know she wouldn't hear anything of it. I'd always told her I didn't need much, that everything she gave me was far too much, but she never relented. I felt guilty, taking the things that were offered to me. Why should I get these nice things, when I had done nothing to deserve them?

"Wait." Adrian stopped me before we exited through one of the back doors. There was a closet there for our coats, and a rack for our boots. He held the gloves that his mother gave me, and beckoned for my hands.

"I'm perfectly capable of putting on gloves by myself, Adrian." I pointed out, refusing to move my hands.

"I'm sure, but I don't particularly feel like watching you try to do so for the next ten minutes." Adrian gestured for my hands again, and reluctantly I held them out for him. I was glad I wore long sleeves, though I could do nothing to hide the little scars that littered my hands. I liked the way his hands felt, touching mine. Even if he was just helping me as if I was some sort of child, it was nice. After he put gloves on me, he wrapped a clumpy knitted scarf around my neck. "Now you're ready." he laughed. The scarf was far too long for me, and wrapped nearly all the way up to my nose.