Spying on the maid

~Nariya Patel~

The wind rustled the leaves, creating peculiar swirls of patterns until they gracefully descended to the ground, attempting a final tango. We had fully embraced the depths of autumn, the air now considerably chillier. From my window, I observed this picturesque scene, with Nyx nestled even closer to me. Though I knew I should rise and attend to my studies, an inexplicable allure in the atmosphere persuaded me to remain cocooned in the warmth of my blankets. With a reluctant groan, I finally compelled myself to get up, blinking as I discovered that the aftermath of the previous night's chaos had once again been tidied up.

This week held a scheduled doctor's appointment with Dr. Jeon to determine whether the cast could be removed. According to the esteemed Sir Alexie the Great, my hand seemed ready, but uncertainties lingered about my leg. His explicit warning resonated, 'If you intend to sit for exams starting next week, refrain from any imprudent actions involving that hand of yours.′ Duty-bound, I acquiesced; after all, I couldn't afford to lag behind, even for valid medical reasons.

This leads to my nightly ritual, where I find myself downing a multitude of medicines to restore my body's much-needed strength. Dr. Jeon, recognizing the two hours of strenuous excruciation I undergo, deemed it necessary to enhance my stamina. Consequently, she incorporated additional elements into my diet plan, focusing on protein-rich, high-fiber, and low-carbohydrate foods, accompanied by ample water intake and fruit consumption. To aid my muscle recovery, light forms of Yoga were also prescribed.

Once my morning routine was attended to, and I had changed into a sports bra and biker shorts, I fetched my yoga mat and headed outside. Opting against the patio, I chose the space in front of the floor windows as my yoga spot. Under normal circumstances, I would have been up and about by 5:30 in the morning, but due to the medication, my sleep schedule had shifted for the interval 10 pm to 8 am. While not the most conventional, Dr. Jeon assured me that this adjustment was normal during the healing process.

Since the Lord was typically not at home during this time, I had the place to myself, except for the upper floor, which was off-limits. Consequently, my daring choice of clothing felt appropriate in the solitude of the moment.

As I laid out the yoga mat on the floor, Nyx seized the opportunity to engage in her own version of stretches, prompting laughter from me. Balancing on one foot, I bent the other at the knee and pressed it along the inner thigh of my left leg.

The effects of the medication also brought a peculiar consequence. Every night before bedtime, the medicinal haze left me so drowsy that, by the time I hit the pillow, I had no recollection of the state in which I left my room. However, one constant remained—I diligently changed into my pajamas. Each morning, despite the expectation of a room resembling the aftermath of a hurricane, it appeared impeccably tidy. There was only one logical explanation: I not only had a guardian in Nyx but also an unintentional housemaid.

I felt a deep sense of embarrassment about my less-than-ladylike behavior. Sister Amenda at the school would likely blush furiously at the idea that I allowed a man, with no connection to me beyond a piece of paper, to handle my mess—perhaps even my undergarments! My cheeks burned like a beetroot as I struggled to lift my injured leg back into the air, pushing my upper body forward, arms stretching parallel to the floor.

Lost in my own thoughts, I failed to notice an individual keenly observing me from the sidelines. When my peripheral vision caught him, panic surged through me, and my balance wavered. I was positioned in a way that suggested I would land on my left hand in the event of a fall, something I couldn't afford in my current situation. But before I could succumb to the impending fall, an arm swiftly wrapped around my waist, its cold fingers grazing my navel and sending shivers down my spine.

He steadied me vertically, holding onto me until I could manage on my own. As his cold touch left me, I gulped, still feeling the lingering shivers. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm so sorry," he apologized.

I blinked at him a few times, my breathing still heavy from the fall. "I didn't know you would be home..." I trailed off.

"Um…yeah," he scratched his head, pulling something from his back pocket. "Just got this in. I thought you would need this."

I immediately recognized the sticker pattern on the cover of my phone. My eyes lit up as I took it from him, shaking as I flipped it open to find not a single scratch on the screen. Looking at him, gratitude brimming in my eyes, he urged me to open it. As I did, the wallpaper featuring a picture of me as a child with my mother brightened the dull room. I sniffed back tears, looked up at him, and mouthed a heartfelt "thank you."

A shift occurred in his eyes, a rare sight for anyone witnessing it, as his tightly pressed lips curved into a genuine smile. His hand reached out to ruffle my hair, and he casually remarked, "No problem, kiddo." It was indeed an unusual and heartwarming moment. However, the fleeting tranquility was interrupted by the insistent ringtone on his cell, prompting him to make his way out into the cold wind to answer it.

Gulping, I looked down and started to head back into my room, Nyx trotting alongside me. Glancing at him one last time, I observed his features returning to a state of frustration as he engaged in conversation on his cell. With that, I closed my door, leaving him to his call. A curious thought bubbled up in my mind—Alexie Ivanov. I found myself intrigued by him.

Lying on my bed, I scrolled through my cell, each fond memory leading to another. It felt like cycling back through the dreamland when everything was perfect, and the princess was happy—until happiness shattered into bits.

Nightfall descended, and a mischievous idea sprouted in my mind. The Lord usually applied ointment to my back before leaving for me to take my bedtime medicines. It was during this interim, after the medicine and before bedtime, that I would, in the words of a drunkard, act as if "I'm not drunk at all," creating havoc in my room. If my calculations were correct, it would be almost one or two hours later that he would return to clean up the messy aftermath. So, I devised a plan.

Armed with humanity's best friend—a phone—I could set up a hidden camera and wait for him to come. Afterward, I could take my medicines. But I couldn't resist witnessing this firsthand. The thought of him meticulously cleaning up my chaos brought a laugh to my lips. I imagined various scenarios, ready to revel in the spectacle.

Talking more to myself than to Nyx, I mused, "Imagine he wears a biohazard suit... hahah... or worse, a maid's outfit." Snickering at the thought, I continued to entertain myself with absurd costume ideas. "Although, he won't look bad in a maid outfit...."

After a good laugh, I began to prepare for my plan, strategically placing the camera in a spot that would be well-hidden yet capture his features at the best angle. I found the perfect spot behind a stack of books in the bookshelf—well-concealed yet offering an unobstructed view for the camera. Once everything was in place and ready to go, I proceeded to create the crime scene. Books, clothes, and various items were scattered everywhere, as if a hurricane had just torn through the room. An evil mischief overcame me as I went to the wardrobe and picked out a particular pink item that the man had previously shown a preference for, plunging it into the mess as well.

I positioned myself in bed, Nyx instantly jumping up to snuggle between my legs, and we waited.

As I had estimated, right on time at 12:30, I heard the door handle crack open. Feather-light steps carried him, and my night lights provided enough brightness to observe him but kept my intentions hidden in the dimness. Watching him walk to the center of the room, meticulously avoiding any "trash," I peeked at him from under my lashes. Suddenly, his eyes snapped and locked onto my direction. Horrified, I shut my lids close, gritting my teeth together in fear. 'Had I already been discovered?' I wondered. To my relief, he continued, moving about and starting to pick up my books one by one, arranging them with the efficiency of an eel.

Unfortunately, he was wearing his regular attire—loose T-shirt and slacks with a cardigan to keep him warm. No hazard suit or maid's outfit adorned him. I sighed inwardly, realizing the absurdity of my earlier thoughts. While I yearned to see him in something ridiculous, my tendency to laugh uncontrollably would surely blow my cover in seconds.

Observing him again, his back now turned to me, my eyes widened in horror as he approached my study table with the attached bookstand where the camera was discreetly placed. Thankfully, he didn't proceed to arrange the books but instead pushed a load of them, conveniently obstructing the camera lens.

'Did he notice?' I wondered again. However, he moved on once more, this time grabbing the trash bin and disposing of the waste. There was only some dry waste from my chip packets, and he carefully placed it, folding the wrapper into the non-recyclable bin.

'What an OCD man...' I thought, my curiosity growing as I continued to watch his meticulous actions.

Now, all that remained were the clothes, most of which needed to go into the washer. Perhaps the absurdity of my plan finally sank in, because when I considered what I had done, my cheeks started to flush. 'Control, Nari,' I scolded myself. 'Just a bit more and... and... and what? You'll make him pick up your underwear?... Shit, shit, shit....' Despite tucking the fabric into a corner, I hadn't realized the extent of my own mischief.

He turned to fetch the laundry basket, and I groaned, mouthing 'Fu*k.' Suddenly, his steps halted, and the blood level in my body dropped as I sensed him walking in my direction. I tried not to furrow my brows or move, but under his scrutinizing gaze, it was extremely difficult.

'Please don't notice... Please don't notice,' I chanted repeatedly in my head. Though he only stayed for a few seconds, those seconds felt like hours. Finally, he bent down and picked up an item tucked carefully under my blanket on the floor, just a hint of bright color visible, and went out. He carried the basket in, gathered all the clothes, and firmly closed the door.

My breathing returned to normal after what felt like an eternity. Gathering my courage, I made my way to my camera. Turning off the recorder, I watched the footage and sighed in defeat. Yes, after a point, the view was blocked off by the stack of books. Fatigue took over me as I made my way towards the bottles of pills, gulped them down, and went to sleep at two in the night.

~Alexie Ivanov~ 

I guffawed uncontrollably as soon as I reached the safety of my soundproof room. Clenching my stomach in pain, I looked at the pink fabric in my hand. "How stupid," I murmured, yet I found it to be adorable. I took it as a sign that finally, Nari was getting somewhat comfortable with me, and her smiling face was always a bonus.

The medicines were making her extremely dizzy and drunk after taking effect, and I had supposed that helping her in that stage would not be a bad idea. Of course, I would only clean up her mess until she was better, but today her acts of rebellion were hilarious. It had lightened my mood from the call I had with the council this morning. The case regarding The Handler was to be discussed at the end of this month, and I, as his guarantor, was expected to be present. Until that date, when the case went on, my activities and anonymity were restricted.

The foul mood was soured by my moment with Nari, but the genuine smile she showcased to me was a precious memory in itself. However, upon entering her room, the whole facade became obvious. Her facial muscles twitched and shifted, the camera was placed at an awkward angle with books hiding the phone but not the lens, the lighting was set to a perfect hue, and the room itself, my oh my, she had a long way to go, was more tattered than usual. It was an easy catch, yet I didn't think it was intentional in a bad way but rather a fun prank. So, I went along with her whims.

Another laugh escaped my lips as I saw the pink fabric on my desk. Oh, how loudly I could hear her heart screaming when I picked this up. Until now, I had thought that this arrangement would be a compromise, but maybe we could indeed grow close... or closer.