“Do you want a bath?” he asks.
I consider it, wondering if he already knows I like baths, or it’s a coincidence. Either way, I’m too exhausted to think of one right now.
“No, I just have to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth.”
He nods, helping me sit up, then surprises me when he lifts me into his arms again.
“I can walk,” I say half-heartedly.
I actually don’t want to. In fact, I think I would be okay if he just carries me everywhere I want to go from now on.
He doesn’t indulge my argument and hauls me into the bathroom, but once we get there, he lingers like he isn’t sure what to do with me.
“You can set me down.”
Reluctantly, he does. Then he stands there, staring at me.
“I…umm, have to pee,” I announce.
“Okay.”
He hesitates another second, and I can’t be sure, but it feels like he’s being protective of me. Either that, or he’s as awkward as I am.
“I’ll get you some water from the kitchen,” he says.
“My guard—” I begin to protest when he cuts me off.
“He’s asleep.”
“How do you know?”
He doesn’t answer, but I get the impression he’s smirking beneath that mask.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He shuts the door as he leaves, and I go about my business. When I re-enter the room, he’s not back yet, so I rummage through my pajama drawer. Usually, I’d also drag out the giant stuffed teddy bear Romeo won me at the fair. I told Abella I use it as a body pillow, and that’s true, but it also offers me a comfort I can’t really explain.
Tonight, I’ll have to change my routine and go without it. That thought makes me feel slightly off balance, but it will be worth it to have Eros here.
I dress in a matching set of pink pajamas and sit on the bed, unsure of what to do with myself.
Do I lie down, or is that too casual? Or should I scroll on my phone like I’m not just waiting for him? Is he even still here, or did he decide I’m too much and bail already?
The only thing I’ve managed to conclude when he does reappear is that I seriously need Overthinkers Anonymous.
He brings me a bottle of water, and I thank him, opening it up to take a sip as my eyes roam over him. The room is still dark, but in the moonlight, I could almost swear his pants look different. But that doesn’t make sense. How would he have changed them?
Silence stretches between us, and I’m not sure why, but I feel even more unsocialized than usual.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” I force out. “I’ll be okay.”
I expect him to take the offer and run, but instead, he tips my face up to his mask.
“Don’t do that,” he says, tension edging his voice. “Not with me. I want the real you—always.”
I swallow the lump of emotion in my throat, nodding slowly. In his own way, he’s asking me not to mask around him. The problem is, I’ve been doing it so long, it’s become second nature.
“Lie down,” he tells me.
