salvia. [h.s. AU]

Prologue

Helping him was a way to help myself.

That's what I've been telling myself for the past few weeks when this all started. He needs me to help with anatomy or whatever, and I really need the money.

Well, frankly, if you really think about it, I need him way more than he needs me - any girl could help him. Hell, considering how good he looks they would probably pay him to do it. On the other hand, not so many people would be willing to pay me to do something I'm definitely not qualified for.

He only asked me because I'm kind of always around and definitely more open-minded than his fiance. Besides, he is a timid guy and I understand this is the kind of thing you don't ask a random person, it's better to have some kind of connection whatsoever, so he only asked me this because I'm his friend.

I mean, we're not friends. I work for him, so he is, strictly saying, my employer. On record, this is it.

Off the record, lately, he also has been kind of my friend, I guess? It's not like what I'm doing right now is the job he actually hired me for. Moreover, I don't think this is the kind of thing you do with someone and doesn't end up kind of turning friends. Well, I mean, maybe friends is not the word I'm looking for, it sounds too personal. Maybe acquaintances would sound better? It's definitely more accurate, but at the same time seems too distant, which is not the case.

There is some kind of connection here.

At least, that's what I've been repeating like a mantra, trying to convince myself I'm not doing something indecent while I take off my clothes and wrap myself on the soft white robe he gave me before leaving the room, you know, to give me a bit of privacy.

Which doesn't even make sense, considering what we're about to do, but I guess I appreciate the sentiment.

I think my tongue is permanently glued to the roof of my mouth, that's how nervous I am. With shaky hands, I tie the knot around my waist, hoping he doesn't get too bothered that I left my panties on. It's such a thin layer of fabric, it can't really get in the way that much, can it?

There's a low knock on the door, and even though it was the softest of sounds, my stomach still jolts and turns so violently I feel bile coming up to my throat. Very sexy, Maria.

Also, perfect timing.

"Maria?" He calls my name from the other side of the door, his raspy voice and accent making me like my name even better. "Are you ready?"

Shit.

It's too late to give up now, right?

Well, he is enough of a gentleman not to do anything I'm not okay with, so I guess he would understand if I changed my mind right now. But then, I wouldn't get my payment and at the end of the day, I really need it.

Helping him is a way to help myself.

"Y-Yeah." I finally breathe out, my voice faltering and so low for a moment, I think he didn't hear me. But then, I see the doorknob turning, my heart beating so hard against my throat it feels like my vocal cords are being restrained.

He enters the room, cheeks flustered, the black frame of his thick glasses framing his face perfectly, long hair tied up on a bun. Why does he have to be so handsome? I feel like this would be easier if he was average looking, it wouldn't feel so inappropriate.

HA, who the hell am I kidding? I would be this nervous even if he was the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

"You can, hm..." He mumbles, cleaning his throat twice as he speaks. "Lay on that divan over there."

I do as he says, nodding with my lips pressed on a tight line - I think I may puke if I open my mouth. I'm so tense my muscles are twisting and turning, on a verge of having leg cramps. Oh God, please don't let me have leg cramps while he is doing his thing.

It would be so inappropriate!

Sitting on the divan he told me to, I turn my face towards him, slightly parting my lips as I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I shouldn't be this nervous, this is a professional thing, it's just a job. The moment our eyes locks together, he gives me a faltering smile, seeming to be a little nervous himself.

I mean, he has done this before, right? With his fiance, I suppose, or maybe his ex. There's no way I'm his first.

Oh my God, what if I am? I don't think he should be doing this for the first time with me. It's too intimate.

"Can you lay down, please?" He asks, his voice a bit shaky. He is definitely nervous. This is going to be a disaster. "On your side, facing the backrest."

Keeping my legs glued together and making sure the robe is covering my ass, I lay on my side, my back facing him, and now all I can see is the red velvet fabric of the divan. Well, at least last that's that - I won't need to face him all the time. Guess it will be easier this way.

There's a moment of quietness, the only sound on the room being the soft rustle of whatever he is touching. I swallow dryly, closing my eyes for a moment as I try to calm myself down. This is way harder than I anticipated.

"Maria?" He calls my name, sounding somewhat antsy now that the moment has come.

I don't think I would be able to speak, the lump in my throat is too big, so I glance over my shoulder to show that I heard him.

He is not as close as I thought he would be, still standing at least 7 feet away. His whole body seems to be tense, shoulders almost meeting his ears, the blue jeans he is wearing hanging low on his waist, plain white t-shirt tugged up as he uses the hem to clean the lenses of his glasses, showing only a strap of tanned skin with black fern tattoos.

Realising I'm staring at his stomach, I snap my eyes up to finding him already looking at me. Our eyes lock together, finding each other like magnets, and for a moment I get completely lost in the green sea of his irises. My heart jumps, beating even faster than before, my cheeks getting rigid with the sudden flow of blood that's making me blush hard. He is the one who breaks eye contact, looking down and cleaning his throat one more time before he speaks again.

"You can lose the robe now."