Page 13 of Kept

“Zella,” he says softly. “What do we say?”

“Perfection,” I mutter, still staring at the bright white flooring. Ethan hums, his breath ghosting across my cheek. He always smells of mint, a faint undertone of something chemical beneath.

Always perfectly put together. Almost like a statue himself.

“That’s right. Perfection is possible, Zella. And you… you’re perfect, sweetheart. And we have to maintain perfection, don’t we?”

He raises a hand, his finger barely brushing my braid. “Why don’t we sort this out, hmm?”

Nodding, I take a step back, my heart thundering. “Of course. I’ll change.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of steel behind it. “I think a shower is in order. Your hair looks awfully tangled.”

I swallow down my protest, nodding as I back away. “I’ll be back.”

Ethan nods almost absently, his eyes already moving to the statues as his feet turn towards Maria. Pausing in the doorway of my bedroom, I glance over my shoulder, watching the way he circles around her, inspecting every inch for flaws.

Just like he does with me.

I struggle through the pain of washing my hair for the second time in a day, this time making sure that I take the time to comb it through, even as I watch the clock.

Ethan isn’t the most patient of people. By the time I’m dressed in yet another white dress, this one without the gray smudges, and head back into the main apartment, he’s standing by the window, watching the evening sky. His eyes lock with mine in the reflection of the glass.

“There we go,” he says, turning to me with a smile. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

Nodding, I shift uneasily on my feet. Our usual routine has been broken, and I’m not sure what to do. He makes a sound in the back of his throat.

“Get the brush, Zella. And sit down. We can talk then.”

My lips twist. “Do you want a coffee first?”

He shakes his head. “I restocked the cupboards, but maybe we should cut down on the caffeine, hmm? I’m not sure it’s doing you any favors if you’re losing track of time.”

His smile is easy, but his eyes are hard. He knows how much I love coffee. Proper, fresh coffee.

The back of my eyes starts to burn, but I bob my head in an imitation of a nod as I move over to my little living area. Dragging the leather stool across, I set it up in front of my armchair and pull the drawer open, taking out the ornate silver brush I didn’t bother to put away last night. Handing it to Ethan, I make sure our fingers don’t touch as he takes it from me.

Silently, I sink down onto the stool. The chair squeaks a little as he sinks into it. “Spine straight, Zella.”

Tugging myself upright, I begin unwinding my braid from where it’s wrapped around my waist. It’s still wet.

I feel the slight tickle as he tugs away the band at the very end of my hair. His fingers start to undo the twists, and I try to stay still as he tugs and pulls. Tears spring to my eyes as he yanks one particularly gnarly patch. I didn’t have time to work through all of the knots. “Ethan, please.”

His hands pause in my hair, just for a second.

“This is why it’s important to take care, Zella.” His voice is low, even as he rips through another knot hard enough to make me whimper. “Perfection is achievable if we try hard enough. I’m not sure you’retryinghard enough.”

I bite back a sob as he does it again. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” His tone is soothing. “Do I not give you everything you need, Zella? Am I not doing enough?”

I shake my head, wincing as it pulls against the brush. “No. I have everything I need.”

My voice hitches on the last word, and Ethan pauses. “I can tell something is bothering you.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I take a breath. “I… I’d like to go outside, Ethan.”

I can feel the way his body tenses behind me, and the words start tripping off my tongue chaotically. “Just for a little while. Just to feel the wind on my face, and maybe… maybe to see the people?”

---