CREATURE

・chapter 36・

Incidentally, Asya had been right. The only black clothing she'd packed for the weekend was a meshy, matching lingerie set. It was one of the sets Julian had picked out earlier in the week, and she blamed its novelty for why it ended up in her bag in the first place. Well, that and the fact that she never travelled without nice underwear.

Nice underwear, and pointe shoes. Even when she was injured, even for a three-day Christmas trip, even when she had no real reason to, a sewn pair of satin pointe shoes had ended up in the bottom of her bag.

Asya knew from experience that Julian's taste in lingerie was about as impeccable as his fashion sense, but he'd thoroughly outdone himself with the delicate scalloped lace number she had on. It was sultry and feminine, and had tasteful mesh cutouts on both the bra and panties that tempted the imagination just enough to look twice. Nothing overtly provocative or sexy, but also no bows or flowers, because Julian knew her better than that.

She hugged her arms over her torso and inspected her half-bare reflection in the mirror. Two days. It had been two full days since she'd last purged any of her meals. She was a long way off from looking like the pinnacle of health, but she definitely felt better. And she could admit, although begrudgingly, that survival mode had probably been right about her needing a change of scenery.

But despite her persistent issues with her body, she wasn't going to let it ruin this photoshoot for her. Fat fucking chance. She loved being in front of a camera. Her competition photoshoots when she was a child were almost as big a highlight as her competition wins. She was a performer at heart, and there's nothing in the world she craved quite as much as being the center of attention and showing off the body that she'd been slaving for all her life.

Although, instead of an expensive custom-made tutu, a perfectly styled french twist and false lashes, she now had a lingerie set, some barefaced makeup, and the shirt.

His shirt.

The shirt that was meant to add some texture to the photos and give her something to cover up with. The shirt he'd handed over after breakfast while thanking her for playing tribute so he didn't end up in front of his aunt's camera. It was nothing but a plain white button-down, one she'd probably seen him wearing at some point, so why it was staring back at her like a poisonous snake was beyond her.

She snatched it up, undid the buttons and shrugged it on, letting the soft fabric fall loosely over her torso. It was several sizes too big, obviously intended to fit a man probably twice her size, and as soon as she put it on, she realized it smelled like him. Only faintly, but somewhere in the fabric she caught a peppermint and amberwood scent, rich and refined, expensive. She picked up the collar and tucked it under her nose, taking a tentative sniff. Definitely him.

It felt way more intimate than it should have. Maybe because that scent, and that shirt, belonged to a person who had way more details to him than he had a few days ago, details that were making it harder and harder to draw a clear line between what she knew and what she thought she knew.

Well, at least the shirt didn't look half bad on her. It grazed her mid-thigh and showed off a considerable amount of toned neck, stomach, and legs. She decided to leave it unbuttoned, knowing that Julian wouldn't appreciate his meticulously curated lingerie being covered up, and rolled up the sleeves to her elbows for some structure.

With one last look in the mirror she grabbed her pointe shoes and made her way to the changing room's adjoining studio area. After breakfast Miranda had led her to the manor's old stableyard, a block of which she'd renovated into a photography studio.

'Look at you!' Miranda exclaimed from where she was busy setting up some equipment. 'Oh, this is going to be such a treat.'

'Are you sure you don't want me to stretch?' Asya asked, padding over to the enormous white backdrop to put her shoes on.