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"Room service! I have your food ready for you, sir!" I called out in a cheerful voice after knocking on the door, ready to bring in the ordered breakfast for the hotel guest.

The other workers seemed almost in a frenzy over the guest, some famous singer that I'm sure I'd listened too before but I was just too busy trying to earn money to pay off my student loans to really have more than a passing interest in the guy.

Finally the door opened, revealing a tall man with long purple hair that hung wet and dripping over his towel-clad shoulders, another towel wrapped around his waist. Without a single word, he opened the door fully and stepped to the side, grabbing the towel from his shoulders and drying his hair as he walked towards the bed.

Blushing slightly, I pushed the cart into the room, the smell of freshly made tea and an omelet filling the room quickly. Stopping the cart in the kitchenette next to the table, I ducked my head and turned to the guest.

"Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave, sir?" Keeping my eyes on the floor, I did everything I could to avoid looking at the towel-clad man before me. Hearing him chuckle at my behavior, I almost ran out of the room after his next words reached my ears.

"No, you may go. I'll call again when I am done."

--------

I swear the guy was teasing me. The same thing happened every day for the past four days. Since I was assigned his room during my shift, I would be the one bringing his orders to him for room service. Worst of all, management made it clear that I was to do whatever it took to make him happy, as long as it wasn't something that would start a scandal for the hotel.

I would bring him breakfast, he would answer the door in a towel. He had even taken to requesting I butter the english muffin for him while he changed clothes, leaving the bathroom door wide open so I couldn't even turn around without risking seeing more than my eyes could take without chancing heart failure.

For lunch, he would order a bowl of fruit and request that I feed it to him while he sat reading a book, claiming that he didn't want to get the pages sticky. At least he didn't demand I only use my fingers. I hated the smirk that always appeared on his lips when I couldn't take it any more and would jab the fork into the fruit a little too hard.

At least my shift ended before I had to take him dinner. That duty fell to the evening shift, a "pleasure" I was happy to let them have. I grimaced at the thought of what he might try to get away with during an evening meal.

--------

"He what?" I could only stand there stunned after hearing the words of my supervisor.

"He's requested that we have you act as his personal assistant during the remainder of his stay. You will still bring him meals during your shift, but you will also be following him around and assisting him with other tasks. We know this isn't your usual job, but we are willing to pay you extra if you agree. If you accept and do well at this, you might get that promotion you have been hoping for, (y/n)." I frowned at my supervisor, ready to argue until I heard a throat being cleared behind me. I turned to see the hotel manager standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed as he stared at me.

"There is a lot riding on this, both for you and for the hotel. After all, he didn't come empty handed when he made his request. Do you know how much business we could get if he makes it known that his stay with us was enjoyable? Or how much we could loose if he says the opposite? I'm willing to double your pay while you act as his assistant. In fact, I'll promote you to room service manager. Just make Mr. Kamui a happy guest. He's only here for another week, after all." I stood there in shock, staring at the manager as I heard my supervisor sputtering behind me at the thought of me becoming his boss. "Do we have a deal, (y/n)?"

All I could do was nod, already calculating how much faster my loans could be paid off with the salary I would be making.

--------

This was Hell, with a capital H. Sure he didn't ask much that wasn't normal for an assistant to be asked, but the way he watched me constantly, how upset he got if we got interrupted, even if we weren't actually talking... It was disturbing because it was like a twisted version of how a lover would act around their significant other, something we definitely were NOT.

Sighing, I leaned forward and continued taking notes while he talked on about the plans for his upcoming tour. Hopefully it would take him far away from here for a very long time.

My skin crawled where I could feel his eyes trailing over me for a moment before he turned again and continued his pacing.

--------

On his last day at the hotel, he requested I stay for dinner. His treat, of course. It was only the keen eye of the hotel manager standing nearby, something I am sure Mr. Kamui had taken into account when he asked, that made me agree.

His room had already been packed up by dinner time and everything sent ahead of him to the limo he had waiting in the parking lot. Shortly after the meal, he would be heading off to catch a plane back to Tokyo for a meeting with his agent to discuss final plans for the tour. Why he felt the need to inform me of all this, I had no idea and really didn't care.

Sitting down at the table, I enjoyed the time I had before he showed up and ruined the good mood I was in. Maybe if he hadn't been such a handful while he was here, maybe then I would actually say I would miss the guy, but after two weeks of his endless teasing and not nearly subtle enough flirting, I couldn't wait for him to be gone so I could move on with my life.

--------

I have to admit, dinner actually was rather enjoyable. For the first time since I met him, he acted like a real gentleman, polite and reserved in his actions around me. The whole meal, he made polite conversation, showing genuine interest in why I worked at the hotel instead of elsewhere. After all, I had made a decent enough assistant for the week, something I could easily build into a career.

My answer for that was a simple one. I liked my job. It was enjoyable for me, so why search for a new job that might not make me as happy? Besides, I would rather have my student loan paid off in full before giving up a steady job like this one, where I was surrounded by mostly decent coworkers and management that wasn't always out to fire people over minor issues. And even then, I would likely just find a similar job at a different hotel somewhere else, where I could see new sights around me. I liked the idea of seeing different parts of the world someday.

I wasn't sure what to make of his thoughtful expression, but I couldn't help feeling a chill run down my spine.

--------

It had been a mistake, thinking that once his vacation was over that things would return to the way they were, although with a nice promotion added in. At first, I had been right to believe such a thing, the days going rather smoothly as I learned the things that went with being a manager.

But then the first letter had arrived, a thick envelope filled with sheets of carefully written letters and a handful of pictures, describing the first stop on HIS tour in detail with photos to go with it. It had been awkward to receive and I had almost thrown it away, but had ended up reading it out of a mix of curiosity and bafflement.

The second letter came a few days later, was filled with more of the same along with a few words about how much he missed having me to talk to, something that made me frown a bit as I remembered the two weeks of smirking, teasing and uncomfortable staring from him. No, I definitely didn't miss him.

I didn't even open the next three letters. No, instead it was the phone call that caught me by surprise. Especially since it came from inside the hotel.

--------

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on tour, Mr. Kamui?" I sounded flustered, even to myself, as I paced back and forth across the floor. I could feel his eyes following me as he leaned against the wall nearby. I ignored the frown that appeared on his face at my words.

"Didn't you read my letters? I told you in the last one how much I missed you, that I wanted to see you again and would be putting the tour on pause long enough to come collect you." The smile he gave me didn't put me the least bit at ease as I processed his words, taking a step back when he suddenly moved away from the wall.

"What do you mean, collect me? I'm not yours to be collected, Mr. Kamui! I think you should leave now! I know I am!" I turned to step towards the door, my hand reaching out for the handle.

"Yes, you're right. We should leave now. After all, we have a tour I need to finish. And please, call me Gakupo. Mr. Kamui sounds so distant." Hearing his words, I turned the handle and stepped out of the room, only to be stopped by another man's chest blocking my view. In his hands he held a bottle and a piece of cloth.

"Is this the one, boss?" I could feel the rumble in his voice before I stepped back in fear, feeling arms wrapping around me from behind.

"Yes. Lovely, right?" I could only stare in frozen terror as the piece of cloth was pressed to my face.

"Sure thing, boss." The thought of struggling didn't even have a chance to finish forming, having died at the sight of another man watching from just down the hallway, a large wheeled trunk at his feet and gun visible at his waist.

--------

Although life with Gakupo was filled with travel, I rarely got to see the sights outside of whatever room we stayed in, especially in the beginning. I learned fast not to try to escape, having felt the results of his rage firsthand when I was caught each time.

After the third failed attempt, he had left me scarred, although when his rage subsided he had apologized for it and promised never to do something so damaging again. The damage had already been done, the fear left curled deep inside me, ready to swallow me up whenever I even thought about trying to escape him.

"Don't worry, (y/n). You're still lovely. I won't leave you, I promise." I shivered as I heard him whisper from behind me, feeling his fingers trail over the scar he'd left me.

Description
"Room service! I have your food ready for you, sir!" I called out in a cheerful voice after knocking on the door, ready to bring in the ordered breakfast for the hotel guest.

The other workers seemed almost in a frenzy over the guest, some famous singer that I'm sure I'd listened too before but I was just too busy trying to earn money to pay off my student loans to really have more than a passing interest in the guy.

Finally the door opened, revealing a tall man with long purple hair that hung wet and dripping over his towel-clad shoulders, another towel wrapped around his waist. Without a single word, he opened the door fully and stepped to the side, grabbing the towel from his shoulders and drying his hair as he walked towards the bed.

Blushing slightly, I pushed the cart into the room, the smell of freshly made tea and an omelet filling the room quickly. Stopping the cart in the kitchenette next to the table, I ducked my head and turned to the guest.

"Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave, sir?" Keeping my eyes on the floor, I did everything I could to avoid looking at the towel-clad man before me. Hearing him chuckle at my behavior, I almost ran out of the room after his next words reached my ears.

"No, you may go. I'll call again when I am done."

--------

I swear the guy was teasing me. The same thing happened every day for the past four days. Since I was assigned his room during my shift, I would be the one bringing his orders to him for room service. Worst of all, management made it clear that I was to do whatever it took to make him happy, as long as it wasn't something that would start a scandal for the hotel.

I would bring him breakfast, he would answer the door in a towel. He had even taken to requesting I butter the english muffin for him while he changed clothes, leaving the bathroom door wide open so I couldn't even turn around without risking seeing more than my eyes could take without chancing heart failure.

For lunch, he would order a bowl of fruit and request that I feed it to him while he sat reading a book, claiming that he didn't want to get the pages sticky. At least he didn't demand I only use my fingers. I hated the smirk that always appeared on his lips when I couldn't take it any more and would jab the fork into the fruit a little too hard.

At least my shift ended before I had to take him dinner. That duty fell to the evening shift, a "pleasure" I was happy to let them have. I grimaced at the thought of what he might try to get away with during an evening meal.

--------

"He what?" I could only stand there stunned after hearing the words of my supervisor.

"He's requested that we have you act as his personal assistant during the remainder of his stay. You will still bring him meals during your shift, but you will also be following him around and assisting him with other tasks. We know this isn't your usual job, but we are willing to pay you extra if you agree. If you accept and do well at this, you might get that promotion you have been hoping for, (y/n)." I frowned at my supervisor, ready to argue until I heard a throat being cleared behind me. I turned to see the hotel manager standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed as he stared at me.

"There is a lot riding on this, both for you and for the hotel. After all, he didn't come empty handed when he made his request. Do you know how much business we could get if he makes it known that his stay with us was enjoyable? Or how much we could loose if he says the opposite? I'm willing to double your pay while you act as his assistant. In fact, I'll promote you to room service manager. Just make Mr. Kamui a happy guest. He's only here for another week, after all." I stood there in shock, staring at the manager as I heard my supervisor sputtering behind me at the thought of me becoming his boss. "Do we have a deal, (y/n)?"

All I could do was nod, already calculating how much faster my loans could be paid off with the salary I would be making.

--------

This was Hell, with a capital H. Sure he didn't ask much that wasn't normal for an assistant to be asked, but the way he watched me constantly, how upset he got if we got interrupted, even if we weren't actually talking... It was disturbing because it was like a twisted version of how a lover would act around their significant other, something we definitely were NOT.

Sighing, I leaned forward and continued taking notes while he talked on about the plans for his upcoming tour. Hopefully it would take him far away from here for a very long time.

My skin crawled where I could feel his eyes trailing over me for a moment before he turned again and continued his pacing.

--------

On his last day at the hotel, he requested I stay for dinner. His treat, of course. It was only the keen eye of the hotel manager standing nearby, something I am sure Mr. Kamui had taken into account when he asked, that made me agree.

His room had already been packed up by dinner time and everything sent ahead of him to the limo he had waiting in the parking lot. Shortly after the meal, he would be heading off to catch a plane back to Tokyo for a meeting with his agent to discuss final plans for the tour. Why he felt the need to inform me of all this, I had no idea and really didn't care.

Sitting down at the table, I enjoyed the time I had before he showed up and ruined the good mood I was in. Maybe if he hadn't been such a handful while he was here, maybe then I would actually say I would miss the guy, but after two weeks of his endless teasing and not nearly subtle enough flirting, I couldn't wait for him to be gone so I could move on with my life.

--------

I have to admit, dinner actually was rather enjoyable. For the first time since I met him, he acted like a real gentleman, polite and reserved in his actions around me. The whole meal, he made polite conversation, showing genuine interest in why I worked at the hotel instead of elsewhere. After all, I had made a decent enough assistant for the week, something I could easily build into a career.

My answer for that was a simple one. I liked my job. It was enjoyable for me, so why search for a new job that might not make me as happy? Besides, I would rather have my student loan paid off in full before giving up a steady job like this one, where I was surrounded by mostly decent coworkers and management that wasn't always out to fire people over minor issues. And even then, I would likely just find a similar job at a different hotel somewhere else, where I could see new sights around me. I liked the idea of seeing different parts of the world someday.

I wasn't sure what to make of his thoughtful expression, but I couldn't help feeling a chill run down my spine.

--------

It had been a mistake, thinking that once his vacation was over that things would return to the way they were, although with a nice promotion added in. At first, I had been right to believe such a thing, the days going rather smoothly as I learned the things that went with being a manager.

But then the first letter had arrived, a thick envelope filled with sheets of carefully written letters and a handful of pictures, describing the first stop on HIS tour in detail with photos to go with it. It had been awkward to receive and I had almost thrown it away, but had ended up reading it out of a mix of curiosity and bafflement.

The second letter came a few days later, was filled with more of the same along with a few words about how much he missed having me to talk to, something that made me frown a bit as I remembered the two weeks of smirking, teasing and uncomfortable staring from him. No, I definitely didn't miss him.

I didn't even open the next three letters. No, instead it was the phone call that caught me by surprise. Especially since it came from inside the hotel.

--------

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on tour, Mr. Kamui?" I sounded flustered, even to myself, as I paced back and forth across the floor. I could feel his eyes following me as he leaned against the wall nearby. I ignored the frown that appeared on his face at my words.

"Didn't you read my letters? I told you in the last one how much I missed you, that I wanted to see you again and would be putting the tour on pause long enough to come collect you." The smile he gave me didn't put me the least bit at ease as I processed his words, taking a step back when he suddenly moved away from the wall.

"What do you mean, collect me? I'm not yours to be collected, Mr. Kamui! I think you should leave now! I know I am!" I turned to step towards the door, my hand reaching out for the handle.

"Yes, you're right. We should leave now. After all, we have a tour I need to finish. And please, call me Gakupo. Mr. Kamui sounds so distant." Hearing his words, I turned the handle and stepped out of the room, only to be stopped by another man's chest blocking my view. In his hands he held a bottle and a piece of cloth.

"Is this the one, boss?" I could feel the rumble in his voice before I stepped back in fear, feeling arms wrapping around me from behind.

"Yes. Lovely, right?" I could only stare in frozen terror as the piece of cloth was pressed to my face.

"Sure thing, boss." The thought of struggling didn't even have a chance to finish forming, having died at the sight of another man watching from just down the hallway, a large wheeled trunk at his feet and gun visible at his waist.

--------

Although life with Gakupo was filled with travel, I rarely got to see the sights outside of whatever room we stayed in, especially in the beginning. I learned fast not to try to escape, having felt the results of his rage firsthand when I was caught each time.

After the third failed attempt, he had left me scarred, although when his rage subsided he had apologized for it and promised never to do something so damaging again. The damage had already been done, the fear left curled deep inside me, ready to swallow me up whenever I even thought about trying to escape him.

"Don't worry, (y/n). You're still lovely. I won't leave you, I promise." I shivered as I heard him whisper from behind me, feeling his fingers trail over the scar he'd left me.