“It got dirty.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he said it.
I narrowed my eyes, silently questioning what exactly he’d done in the short time he was gone to warrant shedding his clothes. His gaze finally drifted toward me—then snapped away the moment he realized just how exposed I was.
“I should go,” Draven muttered, already rising to his feet.
I reached out to stop him. “Wait. Would you like to join me?”
I noticed a flicker in his eyes, an unspoken vulnerability that mirrored my own. The atmosphere in the room shifted, thickening with a tension that crackled between us like lightning. My heart raced with anticipation as I turned my gaze toward the water, feeling his presence draw nearer, enveloping me with a sense of possibility.
The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as Draven removed the rest of his clothing. I shuffled forward in the tub, which was spacious enough to accommodate both of us, as he lowered himself into the water behind me.
Though I could not see him, I was acutely aware of the proximity of his body to my own. Every nerve in my body tingled with the awareness of his presence.
I kept my eyes fixed on the water, my cheeks flushed, and I felt overwhelmed, struggling to find my voice as the silence stretched on. The only sounds were the soft movements of bathwater and the hushed rhythm of our shared breaths. We were naked together, and I felt a warm rush of desire intertwined with a flutter of nervousness.
Draven picked up the soap and started lathering my hair. His touch was gentle as he began to wash away the dirt from the ends. His fingers worked through, massaging my scalp with care and tenderness.
Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, husky whisper, “Rosalia, I want you to know that you are safe here with me. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I turned my head slightly to catch a glimpse of his eyes, now narrow and intense.
“I know,” I told him. “I get nervous at night alone, and I feel foolish for losing track of time today.”
His hands worked in gentle movements through my hair, his touch as comforting as it was reassuring. “You never have to worry when you are with me. I will always be here to protect you,” he murmured.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I wasn’t sure if it was from feeling vulnerable or if the tenderness in this moment awoke something deeper. A quiet yearning for the kind of safety I was too scared to admit I needed.
“I know,” I said again.
When Draven finished washing my hair, I turned around to face him. I could faintly see his body below the murky water, but I tried to keep my eyes fixated on his face and shoulders.
“I have been wanting to confess something to you for a while now,” Draven started, his voice hesitant but filled with a raw honesty that held my attention. “It’s hard to put into words. I am not sure how you will take the news.”
My heart quickened as curiosity stirred within me.
“It concerns the research I have conducted with the doctor,” he continued.
I nodded. “I have been curious about that for some time.”
“It is for me,” Draven admitted.
I furrowed my brows in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” I reached out and placed my hand on his arm, resting on the edge of the tub.
He took a deep breath, his eyes still locked onto mine. “I have a disease.”
A wave of concern crashed over me. I looked at the man in front of me, someone I’d grown so close to, and the thought of losing him, of death taking him too, made my chest tighten.
“What kind of disease?” I asked, my voice rising with urgency. “Are you going to die?”
I moved closer, our legs brushing beneath the water until I was nearly in his lap, clinging to him without even realizing it.
Draven shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Do not worry. I am nowhere near death,” he said gently, reaching out to touch my arm. His hand was warm and reassuring, and the contact brought a rush of relief through me.
“I have an aversion to the sun.”
“The sun?” I asked, trying to comprehend the implications of his disease.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “My skin is too sensitive. I have been meaning to tell you because I feel you’ve grown suspicious of that aspect of my life.”
