My Psychotic Boss

Guidance

The bathroom in Malrick's mansion was as sleek and cold as the rest of the house, marble counters, gold fixtures, and a mirror large enough to swallow someone whole.

Seren stood up in front awkwardly, turning the small bottle cleanser in her hand that Malrick had just handed her. "You've been using that generic drugstore brand, haven't you?" he said from behind her, his tone teasing but not unkind. "It dries you out. Doesn't do your skin any favors."

Seren glanced at him through the mirror, a bit defensive. "I didn't think it was that bad."

"It's not bad," he said smoothly, steeping closer to the counter. "It's just... uninformed. And you're not uniformed. Or at least you don't have to be." He reached past her and picked up a second bottle, this one in a frost-glass container with minimalist labeling. "Use this instead. It's gentle. Balanced pH. It doesn't strip your skin."

Seren turned the bottle in her hands. It smelled faintly of lavender and something cooler, mint, maybe. "You know a lot about this stuff."

Malrick smiled faintly. "I know what people don't say out loud. Like how looking tired makes people think you are tired. Or how a ponytail makes you look like you're trying to stay invisible."

Seren blinked. "I always wear a ponytail. It's just easier."

He made a small sound of mock disapproval. "Easier isn't always better. Sit." Before she could protest, he was already pulling a sleek stool toward the mirror and patting the seat. Seren hesitated, then sat down. Malrick opened a drawer and pulled out a detangling brush. "Your hair's good. You just brush it like it's a war zone."

She half-laughed, nervously. "It feels like one sometimes."

"Exactly," he said. "Gentle. Start at the ends. Like this." To her surprise, he crouched beside her and begun carefully brushing through a section of her hair. His movements were unexpectedly precise, like someone who'd practiced, or observed a lot.

Seren stiffened at first but didn't stop him. "You've done this before?"

Malrick shrugged. "I watch. I learn. And sometimes, I help." There was a strange calm to his tone, not warm, not cold, but somewhere between familiarity and distance. Seren couldn't quite figure out what he was getting from this, but she also couldn't deny that her hair had never felt this smooth after a brushing.

He finished the section and stood, stepping away to grab a compact of something. "Do you wear blush?"

"Not really."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then you're missing the one thing that makes peoples think you're alive." He tapped a small brush against the compact and offered it to her. "You try. Light strokes. You're not painting a wall."

Seren dabbed the brush onto her cheeks, carefully following his instructions. It wasn't perfect, but it looked... better. Brighter.

She turned to him. "Okay. I'm officially surprised you know this stuff."

Malrick leaned against the counter, arms crossed loosely. "I pay attention to people. Doesn't mean I always like them, but I watch."

She paused, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or a warning. "You don't have to hide," he said after a beat. "You're not invisible, Seren. Not unless you want to be." His words echoed louder than the luxurious stillness of the room should've allowed. Seren looked back at her reflection. She did look different, softer, less tired. Not transformed, not fake. Just... seen. And for reasons she couldn't quite name, that scared her more than it comforted her.