11 Handsome

(From Ella's Perspective)

I knew that he was very handsome and also guessed that he had a very amazing body. But after seeing him without his shirt and pants and only in his shorts, my insides began to heat up in a way they had never done before. I wanted to do something. I did not know what. But I wanted to.

I had never masturbated before. I had never felt the desire to before. I once or twice watched porn. But I did not like it much. In the books, I read that sex was something that was not only physical activity but also an emotional connection. But in porn, there was nothing like that. It was as if they were forced to put each other's things into each other.

As I took a shower, I touched myself. I did not know why, but I felt I needed to. I was wet. I felt embarrassed. I only looked at him, and this was my state now. It was a great relief that no one could see me like this.

I did not masturbate. I did not want to... my body wanted to, but not me. I quickly got out of the shower, wearing a towel only. He said he was going to give me clothes. So what was the point of changing again?

I noticed another room while I was passing past the study room. I did not notice it before. It was a kitchen. It was only because the door was open that I noticed it.

I headed to the bedroom, disregarding my need to explore the kitchen. He was looking in the closet for something.

"What am I going to wear?" I asked.

He glanced back at me. For a moment, he did not look away. He moved his gaze up and down my body. But then he cleared his throat and took a long dress from the closet.

"A dress?"

"Yes. This is what girls wear here," he said.

"It's not going to fit me. I mean..."

"There is a ribbon in the back. You can tie it up if it's too loose-fitting."

"Hmm," I said, taking it from his hand. The dress was long and straight. It was not tight and was not too baggy. It was just a plain light brown dress.

"I thought you lived alone here," I said.

"I do. This is my sister's dress."

"You have a sister?" I asked, surprised.

"I had. She died three years ago," he replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"That's none of your business. Wear this dress now," he said sharply.

I did not ask anything else. He did not want to talk about it. But I was certain that if I could get inside the castle, I would learn everything there was to know about him, his family, and this world.

"Be quick," he said and went inside the study room, closing the bedroom door behind him. I took off the towel and put on the dress. I had to knot the ribbon quite tightly in order for it to fit properly. I examined myself in the mirror. I did not look as bad as I expected. I looked approachable.

I combed my hair with the brush on the dressing table. I could not use any makeup. It was not like I ever used it.

I hated my hair. It had gotten too long and took too much time to comb it. I needed to cut it. But there was no time today. So, I thought of doing it some other day. I put my hair in a tight bun above my head. I would not bother to comb it at all, but I wanted to look like human today.

My face was very small. Now it looked even smaller in this fitting dress and tight bun. I looked very small, especially next to him.

I walked into the study room. But he was not there. My nose was flooded with the aroma of delicious broth. I realized how hungry I was. I had not eaten in a long time.

I walked into the kitchen and saw that he was cooking. He was wearing black pants and a white shirt. His raven black hair was messy as it always had been.

"Is it okay?" I asked.

He looked at me. His gaze moved down my body, causing my insides to churn with a heated sensation.

He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. I exhaled in relief. There were three stools around a table. I took a seat in one of them.

Within a moment, he brought two bowls full of broth and meat and placed them on the table. "Have it before it gets cold," he said as he took the seat in front of me.

His voice was frigid as usual, but I enjoyed how he was getting a bit used to be polite.

"So you can cook too. I can't cook."

Mom never let me enter her perfect kitchen. She said I would blast the place up and ruin her dream place. I just rolled my eyes at her. Who wanted to get into that horrible kitchen of hers anyway?

"What's your favorite soup?" I asked. And when he was not saying anything, I said, "Come on. You can talk to me, right? You don't have to say a lot of things. Just answer me. You don't have to ask me anything. My life is boring anyway. So tell me. What's your favorite soup?"

"Clam Chowder," he replied.

"Oh, that's cool. I love French Onion Soup. It's my favorite," I said. "Hey, I was wondering... you don't have fans, right?"

He looked at me, a bit surprised. "Fans? The things you use for getting air. Electric fans? Do you have TV? Refrigerator? AC? Washing Machine? Hair Dryer? Do you have electricity?"

"No."

I felt as if I had fallen from the sky. This world was not improved at the stage of science. That's why he thought I was dressed strangely. He was also cooking on an open fire in a pot. There was no fan here. I should have realized. They were either living in a far older era or things had not improved here at all.

"Do you have a clock?" I asked desperately.

"Yes. Who doesn't have a clock?"

If only he saw the things that my world had! I had no idea how I was going to deal with the people here. Especially as it was kind of an old-time, I had to show courtesy to the royalties. I was not good at showing respect to certain people, but then courtesy was beyond my imagination. I just wished I could manage to stay alive.

After breakfast, he took me out of the cave. We walked through the forest. He had given me six papers that I had to hide inside my dress. In five of them, he said that there were drawings and descriptions of secret passageways inside the castle. On the other paper, there was the description and directions of the route out the forest.

He gave me a wristwatch. It was a little huge for my hand, but I did not object. The brown leather of the wristwatch matched the color of my dress. He said that it was his sister's as well. He did not seem comfortable talking about his sister. I did not ask him any questions about her as well. I knew some matters were hard to talk about and it was better not to be asked about them. I used to feel the same way every time someone would ask about my father.

"What happened to your mother?" I asked. "If it's hard for you to talk about her, just say that it's none of my business. I won't ask again then."

"It's none of your business," he said.

"Okay. So what's your favorite color?"

He looked at me as if I was insane. Perhaps I was. But I liked being insane. At least, I was being myself. Insane me, but me me.

He then looked straight again and said, "Black."

"My favorite color is black too! You know why? Well, because it represents how I'm on the inside. You know, my soul, if I have one. I'm sure my aura is black too, if there is really something called an aura. I think black is the coolest color of all. Oh lord, I use the word 'cool' a lot. You don't mind it, do you?"