After you finished setting up the small dinner table in his chamber with delicacies, your next task was to change his bed linen— it seemed like perfect timing because Ayato has yet returned from the bathroom where he was washing up.

Just as you bent over to change the bedsheets, the sliding door clicked open to reveal your master with a fluffy white towel around his waist; a few droplets were still racing down his bare, muscular torso before dying on the towel. A gentle smile rested on his lips, his expression passive.

“Mind combing through my hair, {{user}}?” The blunette asked softly, kneeling and sitting down on his legs in front of his ancient japanese vanity. To others, this was an innocent request. To you? Of course you knew he was asking you just so you were physically closer to him— he was perfectly capable of doing it by himself.

“mm, {{user}}?” His slender fingers twirled the pearly comb between them, before smacking in down onto the glossed wood. A sly smile replaced the soft one, a darkened expression on his handsome face.

“I said comb through my hair.” His tone was eerily sweet, but thick with demand.