Work Text:
Elesa always found it endearing, the way that Ingo would practically melt in her hands when she played with his face. All it really took to render him helpless was brushing her thumbs over his cheeks, as he was practically putty at that.
Of course, she never used that information for evil—although she absolutely could if she wanted—instead, Elesa learned his language of love and gave him affection only when in the privacy of their homes.
At the moment, they were seated side by side, knees touching and bodies turned toward one another, as her fingers massaged in small circular motions lotion onto his face.
"What... was this for again?" Ingo asked, voice soft and almost spoken as though he were far, far away.
The fact that he was able to speak at all was impressive. She would have thought that he'd have lost himself in her earlier ministrations of exfoliating his skin. With every light stroke she applied to his face with her lukewarm-soaked sponge, he fell more under her spell. And with the way that his eyes were lidded and nearly closed after, it wasn't an unfair assumption of her to make.
"To moisturize your skin, Sweetie," she indulged in him an answer, finding comfort in the action of doting upon him.
"What does that mean?"
"It means your skin is dreadfully dry," she tsked. Elesa transitioned to lightly scratching at his cheeks with her nails, teasing him. "Have you ever noticed your face feeling itchy? Or irritated?"
"Sometimes." Ingo shifted, leaning closer to her. "I usually just scratch until the sensation goes away. But that... just makes my face sore."
"Well, this will help with that without you needing to hurt yourself," she told him. Reaching to the side with one hand to get more moisturizer from its spot on the side table she had set out, Elesa continued, "What I did before was to get rid of the build-up of dead skin on your face."
"Really?"
"Mhm." It was so easy to follow along with this well-practiced script, of going through the muscle memory of teaching him about her beauty routines.
But then, her hand returned to his face, palm brushing against his chin and feeling the scratchy and coarse stubble. It was the shock Elesa needed to bring her back into reality. The one where she had to teach him this all over again because he didn't remember the first or any other time she taught him it. The kind of world where he lost all his memories, a line of thick scarring across the back of his skull, usually hidden behind the band of his conductor's cap.
The reality in which Ingo still didn't know Elesa, not truly, but the one where he trusted her to touch him in this intimate way anyhow.
Ingo's eyes opened slightly, peering at her in curiosity, "You stopped moving. Are we done?"
"No, no," her throat was tight and she continued her motions despite the sudden welling of tears in her eyes.
"You seem upset."
"I'm not, I promise." Elesa brought her forehead close to his, knocking against it slightly. "I just... realized something."