The Bald Princess

~Twenty Seven~

Warning: Mention of self harm.

I'll meet you again. Beside the horizon, where the sky meets the ocean. And do not worry for our residence, my love, for I'll always make you home in my arms.

Atarah

"It's been forty three seconds since I'm holding you, Atarah." Ansel said, against my skin, making me bit my lips.

"I know." I mumbled against his chest. Do not think, I wasn't counting, Warrior. You distracted me, that's all. He chuckled against me, making my insides to curl at how beautiful his melodious chuckle was.

"Can I hold your face?" He asked after a couple of minutes, making my eyes to open at his request. His sudden desires always had me awestruck. It was a simple request and yet it felt so mighty, coming out of his mouth. He was considering my affirmation for everything. He was showing me how every relationship should be.

"Yes but don't...... do not touch my scarf." I pleaded and I felt him frowning at my words. His eyes suddenly darkened, though they were still red. Darkest shade of the red. I had never seen someone so terrifyingly beautiful before. He didn't scare me, no. But the tremors he passed down my body felt maliciously delicious.

He pulled away from me, much to my displeasure. I knew, I was the one to set this time limit for our hug but my cravings never sated down with him. I was overwhelmed back then but now I felt like a craving mess.

"You don't need this scarf to hide your scalp, Atarah. You're just too beautiful to hide any part of you." He said, making my heart to beat loudly inside my chest. My chest was heaving up and down as he leaned forward, the familiar warmth pooled inside me.

"Trust me, Atarah. You're really beautiful. You don't need to hide yourself. You don't need this scarf to feel confident. Have faith in me, Atarah and please get rid of this scarf. Let me look at your beauty." He said, so softly and so slowly, as if he feared I would break into pieces if rose his voice at me.

I took a step back, not very sure of his idea. I had been hiding myself from years now and this had become my reality now. My brutal but sad reality. I am the woman with scarf on her head. The bald woman.

"No, Ansel. No, please. I am very ugly up there. It's better to hide my hideous reality, it gives nightmare to people. I don't wish to scare you, Ansel. And, once I unveil myself, my self hatred will only increase. Please don't force me." I whispered, tears burning my eyes and I heard him sighing before I heard the soft thumping of his feet. He was walking towards me.

"Atarah," He called me out softly. My fingers only dug deeper in my palms, making me hiss as my nails were pressing against my skin harshly. "Please look at me, my love."

He tried once again, making me bit my lips as I shook my head. My hatred towards me wasn't something, I wasn't oblivious to but everytime I had to talk about my baldness, this hatred only increased by tenfold, making my heart to shatter painfully.

"You're hurting yourself, Atarah. Please stop that." He said, his voice tight but the softness never left his voice. I was scared. Too scared to look into his eyes and to find disappointment there. He wanted me to get rid of the scarf. I would. But what I fear the most is his reaction once I would be completely vulnerable to his gaze. He would see my insecurities, my ugly, bald scalp.

"Atarah!" He sharply barked, holding my cold hands into his own cold ones, making me blanch back. But he didn't let go of my hand.

I watched his fingers, opening my fist. My palms had the red marks of my nails digging in them. The pain felt good. Deep down, I wanted to harm myself. More than I had ever felt before. The urge was strong. Very strong. The need to cut my arms intensified. I had stopped harming myself. But the sudden urge felt unbearable. I wanted to feel the pain. Somehow. I wanted to get the guilt away and the only way I knew was to inflict pain on myself. My fingertips were turning cold, my heart was hammering against my ribcage, making me feel lightheaded.

Maybe I should. There's even a razor in the last drawer of my tabel. Just one cut and the pain would release with my blood.

Suddenly all my thoughts were brought to halt. My cold frame was pulled against a cold body. The cologne felt familiar. Their cold fingers on me felt familiar. Their cold fingers made me shiver at how cold they were but the warmth they provide me melted me down into a puddle.

Tears rolled down my eyes and soon my crying turned into sobbing. I was shaking badly. My cried got muffled against his shirt. For a second, I forgot about everything. I couldn't even remember why I was even crying. I just felt the urge to cry. I couldn't even remember who was holding me but their embrace felt loving. Like they actually cared. I never knew how can something so cold can feel so warm. It was like a cube of ice warming me on a very cold winter morning.

"I'm here. For you. And I'll always be with you. Just breathe, my crown. Breathe." And like a command, his words made me stiff. My sobs were now merely sniffles.

Realization slowly hit me. Ansel's presence slowly made me heart to curl. He wasn't supposed to witness any of these. Lord! He wasn't supposed to hear any of my thoughts. He wasn't supposed to see me breaking like this. He wasn't supposed to know how self-destructive I really was. I slowly, almost with fear looked up to see him gazing down at me with the similiar gentleness. My heart broke a bit as I took my arms off him, taking a step back. He guided me towards my bed, asking me to sit down. And I did. I was too tired to stand anyway.

I watched him, pouring some water into my glass from the large mug kept on my rusty, old table before coming towards me. I quietly took the glass of water from him, taking small sips of the water. I was embarrassed. Of course, I was. But something inside me also felt calm. The uncontrollable urge to hurt myself had also subsided down.

Ansel waited patiently for me as I drank the whole glass of water down, slowly. A part of me was doing this deliberately to avoid the conversation regarding this. But a part of me also knew that it was anxiety that didn't want me to leave the glass. I need to hold on something. Something that would help me escape the questions that Ansel wanted to ask.

"Do you need more water?" He asked slowly and I looked down at my now empty glass. I shook my head, reluctantly placing it down on the floor before sliding it under my cot.

"Are you feeling any better now?" The softness never left his voice. He astounded me how he managed to keep his composure when I was flipping inside. How could he be so calm after witnessing me behave like a mad woman.

"Better, I'm better. I'm sorry, Ansel. You ... you didn't had to witness that. Please forgive me." My voice was barely above whisper and he shook his head, squatting down. His dark red eyes were staring at me and I never thought that a demon would be staring at me with so much of care. Like I was his whole life.

"Don't be sorry, Atarah. Can I hold your hands? I need this comfort as much as you need it at the moment." He said and I smiled softly, chuckling as I placed my hands into his cold ones. His grip on me tightened, making my heart to soar.

"Look into my eyes, Atarah." He softly demanded and I gulped before looking into his eyes and dearest Lord, they were staring back at me so intently that I felt something inside me stirred. His eyes were akin to those spells that made me wish to spill out everything I had kept buried inside me for years now.

"Don't." He rebuked me sternly when I tried to look away from me. His grip increased in warning and I sighed, looking back into his dark red orbs. "Now, tell me, do you still wish to hurt yourself?"

I opened my mouth to deny, to lie but I couldn't. I couldn't form any lie. His eyes— they were doing this. He made me look into his eyes because his eyes had the magic to make anyone confess the truth. I tried my best to lie but I couldn't. Not when I was looking into his eyes.

"You're so mistaken, my dearest human, if you think I'll let you lie to me. Especially now. I'm a vampire, darling. The descendant of the actual royal family. I have powers, I can't count on my fingers. And I never used them on you until today. Until now. And if you put yourself in danger again, I'll be forced to use my power on you. And I don't wish to do that. Trust me, neither won't you."

I gulped at the threat that rolled out of his mouth so smoothly, so elegantly that it made my heart to thump inside my chest. I never once doubted his immense power. I always knew he was so much more than what he portrayed.

"Do you still feel the urge to hurt yourself?" He asked again and I sighed. Without my permission, my mouth decided to betray me.

"Yes."

"As strong as what you felt a few minutes before?" He asked another question and I shook my head slowly.

"No. I am in control now." I said, telling him indirectly that my urge to harm myself aren't overpowering my senses now. I knew the difference between wrong and right now. I was back to my senses.

"You've hurt yourself before." And this wasn't a question. He didn't needed any answer to this. I looked down shamefully as I felt this conversation was exposing me more than I wished. He gently gripped my chin before making me look into his eyes again. Those red blood eyes. His jaw was clenched but he didn't look angry. Concerned, yes. Enraged? No.

"I suppose, I asked you to not take your eyes off me. I'm not done yet, Atarah." No doubt, his demonic form was more gentle, more loving than his human form but his demonic side was also very demanding.

"You already know all the answers, Ansel! Why ask them then? It's not less humiliating to voice my emotions out. Especially my desire to hurt myself. Please, drop it now." His eyes softened. He rubbed the side of my face, making me close my eyes. This time he didn't ask me to open them until I opened them myself.

"I will once I'm sure you won't hurt yourself while I'm not here; I'll drop this conversation. One last question, my crown. And look into my eyes while you answer." He said and I did. I complied. Atleast they soothed me.

"While you wanted to hurt yourself, you mentioned about the blades you had kept in the drawers." He said, making my eyes to widen. I did? "Yes, you did. In your mind. Get those blades out for me."

"You don't have to, Ansel. I've stopped cutting myself. It's been quite some time. I'm in control now. Trust me." I pleaded and he smiled. The soft, assuring smile, that made me believe that he was still there with me. Emotionally. He was standing by me.

"I trust you, Atarah. But these urges don't understand promises. Please get those blades out for me." I sighed, knowing he wasn't requesting. No matter, how soft and pleading his tone was, I knew, he wasn't requesting the last part. But why do I need them anymore? I had also promised father to never hurt myself again.

"Oh, and Atarah?" He called out when I got my blades out to give them to him. I turned out, waiting for him to speak.

"Do not foget to get the blades from your bathroom and from under your mattress too, hm?"

And I swear, nothing can be kept hidden from this man!