It's in the Blood // Claire & MohinderMature

At her answer, Mohinder smiled and nodded. “Excellent. I’ll get prepared as well.” Either restaurant was fine with him, but with the one she’d chosen, he felt as if he could show her that he cleaned up well and had finer tastes just in case she was wondering. After seeing her apartment, he would have been lying if he said it wasn’t a bit intimidating. He must have appeared like a street rat to her in his normal attire. So yes, this was somewhat to impress her, but mostly so she’d know that he could fit into any occasion easily.

Wait - why would that matter though? His job was to cure her, not impress her. With a mental sigh that said he’d figure that out later, he made his way to his room and pushed the door closed behind him. It didn’t click though, and swayed open a few inches which went unnoticed. Was there time for a shower, he debated as he stepped onto the cool tiles of the bathroom. No, there wasn’t quite time for that, he decided as he threw his clothes aside to stand in front of the mirror in his black, silk boxers. Leaning close, it was evident that his five ‘o clock shadow had gained a few hours. That wouldn’t do.

With the trimmer attachment, he began working on his face. Only a trim though, as he felt a full shave made him appear like a whole other person. To him, without his scruff, he thought that it made him look as though he had an ego or was up to something. The clean-shaven look just didn’t fit his personality, he’d decided a long time ago. After a few minutes, that was taken care of and he was left with just enough facial hair to shade his face.

After washing his face and combing his curls back the best he could, he couldn’t help practicing some facial expressions in the mirror to test out his slightly new look. As he did, the hair fell back into place over his forehead. “Hmph…” And he was sure that he didn’t have any hair gel, so wetting the comb, he tried again and this time was careful not to move as much. Maybe that would hold. There, he was now decent.

With that taken care of, his next stop was the closet. Black blue jeans, white long-sleeved undershirt, and black silk vest. As he slid into the jeans, a brow raised. These were a bit more snug than he’d remembered. Over to the full length mirror he went to inspect them from every angle. Hmm… They’d have to do for now. Plus, women liked it when men wore jeans that accentuated certain… areas, right? According to that old George Micheal video - yes.

After a quick glance at the clock, he hurried to slip on his shirt and vest. With those taken care of, he topped the whole outfit with his black suede leather jacket. A last look into the mirror revealed that his curls had once again fallen back into place. “Seriously?” The comb was wet again for a repeat of the styling from a few minutes ago. At least she’d see him like this for a moment before it fell down again.

Once he reunited with her, he couldn’t help staring for a few seconds. “You are absolutely…” An adjective would go nicely here. Quick. “…breathtaking.” Should he kiss her hand? Would it be rude not to? Do they only do that on dates? This wasn’t a date, was it? No, no. Finally, he decided on holding his arm out for her to escort her to the car, opening the doors for her along the way.

The End

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