“What will we do first, Belissenda?” I resist the urge to tug on her soft hair again, then I wonder aloud before I can stop myself, “Does your hair grow that way naturally?”
“No,” she blesses me with a bashful smile, “I color it this way. Our first stop will be to fixyourridiculous hair.” I smooth back the waves in question, humming to myself in agreement. She leads me to some kind of enclosed box she calls an elevator. It begins to move, and her eyes are full of humor as she gestures all around her, explaining its usage.
“We had something similar,” I tell her, “but it was pulled by animals and rarely used for transporting humans due to the unstable nature of it.” She nods, expression alight with curiosity and fascination. As the doors slide open again, she walks into a very large dark room with black terrain, gray walls, and vehicles as far as the eye can see.
A sharp chirping noise sounds, and I grab her arm to push her behind me, but she brushes me off, “That’s just my car, Caspian.” Pulling me by the hand, she leads me toward a very small gray steelcar.“You sit here,” she opens the door for me and gestures me inside.
“I know how to sit in a cart,” I tell her indignantly.
“Apparently, you don’t,” she grins and leans slightly inside the car, grabbing a strange strap from beside me. “This is your seatbelt. You wear this any time you are in a car so that if the car crashes, you don’t die.”
“Your little mortal inventions could not kill me, silly girl.” She brings the belt across my body, and it clicks into place.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Have you ever been hit by 2 tons of steel traveling at 90 miles an hour?”Well, no.My silence gives her the answer she was looking for, and she gives me a look that screams,I didn’t fucking think so,before pulling away from me and shutting the door in my face.
She moves around the front of the vehicle, and I get to watch her every step through the windows. When she climbs into her own seat, I can’t help myself, “You will also wear a safety belt, yes?” I’ve never worried for anyone this way before, and I can’t help but wonder if the bond has created this overbearing nature in me or if it’s just Bel.
“Yes, mother hen, I will wear a seatbelt. I always do.” She twists to set her bag on the floor behind our seats, and the position brings her so close to me I can smell her sweet perfume where it sits on her skin.By the Gods, do not sniff her like a feral animal again.With the marriage of sweet vanilla, marzipan, and almost spicy warmth, she smells like a God’s damned dessert, and I want to devour every inch of her.
Shaking the thought away, I watch as she uses a button to power on the vehicle, moves the little stick about, then we slowly start moving backward. The rumble of the engine feels so incredibly powerful beneath me, and I know instantly this will be my favorite part of the day.
“I’d like to drive this vessel,” I announce.
“Uhhh, well probably not today. I’d have to teach you how,” she moves the stick thing again, and we are suddenly passing all the other parked cars, heading towards what must be the exit, based on the bright light coming from it.
“How difficult could it be?” I ask.
“It’s not super hard. It just takes a lot of patience and practice to do it safely. We start learning how to drive when we’re like 15.” That makes sense, I suppose. Commanding a beast this powerful without harming others would require precision.
“But you will teach me?” I’ll observe her for now, and when the time comes, I will be her most enthusiastic student.
“When we have time, yeah, I’d be happy to,” she shrugs, not realizing the gift her words have given me. She’d behappyto. She wants to keep me as surely as I am desperate to have her, even if she does not see it yet.
As we make our way into the sunshine, she turns a couple knobs and soft music begins to play. I can only imagine how sick of all my questions she is, so I don’t pester her with them anymore as we drive to our destination, even though I am fascinated by her motor vehicle being able to project music.
Bel begins to hum along to the tune playing, and I realize I would commit every atrocity known to man if she asked, just for a moment of her song. I lean my head back against the seat, basking in the magic that is her.
When the car begins to slow again, she’s directing it between two others of similar size in front of a building mostly made of glass. She presses a button to release my seatbelt, then her own, opening the door and climbing out. Following her lead, I exit the vehicle and trail closely behind her.
“I booked an appointment online so we shouldn’t have to wait too long for your stylist,” she assures me. I nod in anticipation and open the door, guiding her in first with a hand on the small of her back, and she smiles sheepishly up at me as she passes by.
“How can I help you?” the man behind the counter asks. He has shockingly white hair with a black streak through the front, all pushed up into a messy, disheveled spike.
“Hello,” my Dove greets, “I’m Bel and this is Caspian. I made an appointment for him to get a haircut earlier.”
“Oh perfect! I’m Rafe, and I get to be your stylist today. Super nice to meet you both!” his enthusiasm is contagious, and Bel is positively beaming at the man, both of them wearing great big smiles.
Bel pushes me toward the man a bit and says, “Caspian is new to… the states and wanted a cut that would be a little more… modern.” She sneaks a look at me like we’re sharing a joke, and I suppose we are, so I smile back. She pulls her phone out, and with a few swipes, she’s showing Rafe something on it and saying, “I do kind of want it to be a surprise, but I was thinking something like this.”
“Oh, he’ll look so handsome with that kind of volume. Those waves will be perfectly tousled and it’ll make his features really pop.” She gives his arm an excited squeeze and releases a little squeal, and I have to ignore the sick feeling in my gut telling me to slaughter this man.
He turns to me and does a little summoning wave towards one of the chairs, “Come on, Prince Caspian, let’s get you spiffied up.” At Bel’s giggle, I turn toward her in confusion.
“It’s a movie reference. There’s a prince and a lion and some not so vague allusions to Christianity,” she wiggles her fingers at me in farewell and turns to walk away, “I’ll be waiting right over here, ‘kay?”
I sit where Rafe directed me, and he drapes a cape over me. He begins running his fingers through my hair and talking about the length, thickness, andcurl pattern.I then realize that I’m so clueless about it all that it’ll be far easier to let Rafe do as he pleases. He starts clipping away at my hair, switching between scissors and a small buzzing machine.
Eventually, he tells me to stand so we can go wash it, but I inform him I cleaned it no more than a few hours beforehand. He explains that the wash gets the small hairs out, so I don’t have to take them with me.
