Malek Ackerman

You're my water. You're my wine.

Malek could hardly pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to face Chizue, as the guilt and shame rides him rather hard in those brief moments before stepping into that glorious steam. Yet, her quiet voice seems to draw him out long enough that Malek turns, well, snaps his head in her direction, his grey irises a bit wild in that moment. Stepping forward, he rests a hand on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing her delicate frame gently despite his current state, "No, you can't go back there. She was... a monster. It isn't safe," he states, praying his vague words would keep Chizue here. Perhaps part of him didn't want the woman to see what he had done, the destruction he had created, though he was entirely certain he didn't want Chizue within a hundred miles of Petra. His outburst doesn't last long, his hand almost immediately dropping from her shoulder as he finds himself wandering back into his mind, his focus on devil he so kept caged within him.

Chizue suggests the shower and it isn't long before he's stripping his clothes and slipping beneath the spray of water, allowing it to wash the blood away from his body, the tub turning crimson in a moment. It felt like hours to him in those brief minutes of standing below the water before he's stepping out of the tub, the back of his mind taking pity on Chizue as he wraps a towel around himself. Standing in front of the mirror, utter panic begins to grip at him as the scent of blood still dwells within his nostrils, he could scent it in his long locks, his beard. The all consuming need to get rid of such a thing takes ahold of him before he's frantically searching through the drawers, only to find what he was looking for; a pair of scissors. It doesn't take long before he's hacking away at his hair, doing a piss poor job though, Malek couldn't hardly care as desperation fills his moments and his hair scatters to the floor around his bare feet.

He wasn't entirely aware of the woman standing in the doorway for several moments, at least until her scent finally breached the blood in his nostrils. Slowly lowering his weapon of choice to the counter, he slowly turns to her, his grey eyes filled with shame as he blinks at her. He apologizes after a moment, Malek letting his gaze travel to the floor, noting the mass amount of hair he managed to scatter. Cringing at the sight of it, he offers to clean it up and to leave the confines of her home. What he doesn't expect is for the woman to offer to help him, his eyes snapping up to her in almost surprise. He pauses for a moment before he slowly nods his head, taking a seat at the vanity. It was a curious thing, to have someone touch his hair, his head, it was soothing in a way as her gentle fingers work through the mass amount. Mal couldn't ever say he had, had someone do this for him before and yet, he found he didn't mind and his panic was beginning to ease a bit from his body.

"Chizue... you are too kind," he murmurs, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror as he watches her, a touch of curiosity beginning to bloom within him. It was as if the touch of her fingers on him managed to give him that extra push to fully contain the devil within him, his other half silent... at least for now. Breathing deeply, he noted the scent of blood was dwindling only to realize she had taken his clothes somewhere else within her home. His eyes travel to the counter space, a set of clothes laid out there. Why she had men's clothing in her home was beyond him but the offer seemed sincere, even if she hadn't given them to him yet. "I don't know how I can repay you for what you've done for me tonight," he says as she finishes with his hair. After a moment, he stands and reaches into that shower once more to retrieve that razor she had spoke of, the man hardly pausing before he started to work on his facial hair, silence falling over the two. He works quickly and efficiently, finishing faster than even he had anticipated. Setting the razor down next to the scissors, he takes a moment to look at his reflection before turning back to Chizue.

Offering her a weak smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, "It's been a long time since I've seen my face beneath all that hair," he says before he turns towards her. And perhaps it was his scattered emotions or the unique situation he had put the woman in, or he simply needed to touch someone, but he hesitantly reaches forward and pulls the woman into a hug, his chin resting atop her head, "I'm so very sorry, Chizue. Thank you, for everything you've done for me," he murmurs into her hair.

You're my whiskey. From time to time.