With one last stretch, I threw the covers back and slipped from the bed, padding across the floor without a second thought. The cool air brushing over my skin as I made my way into the bathroom, the mirror catching me the second I stepped inside.
I paused then, my gaze dragging slowly over my reflection, taking in the faint flush still lingering in my cheeks. I naturally cringed at the wild mess of my hair, and then lower, my fingers lifting almost instinctively to brush lightly along my neck. To the place where I knew he had been, where I had felt him most.
And there it was.
A mark.
Faint, but unmistakable, not just a bruise but something deeper. Something that felt almost intentional in a way I couldn’t quite explain. My fingertips were hovering over it as though I wasn’t entirely sure whether to touch it or not, my pulse quickening slightly as the reality of it settled in.
Would it scar?
The thought came uninvited, slipping into place before I could stop it, and worse still was the almost dangerous part of me that didn’t entirely hate the idea. That wondered what it would mean if it stayed, if it didn’t fade like everything else was supposed to.
My lips parted slightly at that, my brows drawing together as I stared at my reflection. The weight of that thought lingered for just a fraction too long before I forced myself to shake it off. Now turning away from the mirror with a quiet exhale.
After this, I turned on the shower and, whilst I waited for the water to heat up, I used the toilet. The water roared softly as the space filled quickly with warmth. Moments later, I stepped beneath it, letting the water cascade over me, soaking through my hair and trailing down my skin in a way that felt grounding. Like it might wash away the strange tangle of thoughts I had no intention of untangling just yet.
For a while, I let myself relax into it, letting the heat sink into my muscles as my hands moved through my hair, working the shampoo I had packed into my roots. Then, without much thought, my head tipped back slightly as the steady rhythm of it all lulled me into a quiet, almost thoughtless calm.
Until something shifted.
It was subtle at first, barely noticeable, a slight change in the way the light filtered through the steam. A distortion that didn’t quite make sense, and my movements slowed instinctively as my gaze flicked toward the glass. They then narrowed toward the blurred shape that seemed to form beyond it.
A shadow.
Too large to be nothing and too solid to ignore.
My breath caught, the calm from moments ago slipping away far too quickly as unease curled tightly in my chest. My pulse was picking up in a way that felt far too loud in the enclosed space as I forced my hand to move slowly, cautiously, toward the handle. As though I wasn’t entirely sure what I would find on the other side.
And just as my fingers were about to close around it, the door swung open. A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
The intruder swore under his breath, scrambling slightly as he grabbed for balance, one foot bracing awkwardly against the handle as he hauled himself up. Doing so just enough to reach me, and then his hand was over my mouth, firm and urgent as his eyes darted briefly toward the door.
“Shh,”he hissed, his voice sharp with urgency, his breath uneven as he leaned closer.
“Do you want to get us both killed, girly?!”
My heart was still racing, my breath coming fast against his palm as I stared at him in shock, my hands gripping instinctively at his arm as my mind struggled to catch up with what I was seeing.
Bo.
He stared back at me, just as stunned and just as breathless. In that moment, with the steam curling around us both, the dreamy calm of the morning shattered completely.
The scream was still lodged somewhere in my throat when instinct took over. My body reacting before my mind had any chance of catching up, as I stumbled backward straight into the stream of water. The sudden heat hitting my skin just as sharply as the shock itself. My foot slipped slightly, my hand shooting out to steady myself against the tiled wall as my other arm came up across my chest in a futile attempt at modesty. Which only made things worse when the water soaked through the strands of hair clinging to my face and promptly sent a stinging line of shampoo directly into my eyes.
“Ah!” I hissed, squeezing them shut as I blindly reached for anything that might help, which, unfortunately, was not helpful at all when the only thing within reach was more water.
“Oh, for the love of…” Bo started, his voice pitched somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. Though I barely caught the rest of it over the rush of water, I felt the slap of a hand towel hit my face. I cried out again at the shock, then used it to wipe the shampoo from my eyes, trying to relieve the sting.
I turned away from him entirely, fumbling for the handle and yanking the door shut between us.
“Give me a second!” I snapped, scrubbing hastily at my eyes as I ducked my head under the stream, rinsing the last of the shampoo from my hair. Now doing so in a rush that was far from graceful but entirely necessary, seeing as I wasn’t as alone as I would have liked.
It also took longer than I would have liked before I could finally see again, blinking rapidly as I dragged my hair back from my face. Then I reached for the door once more, opening it just enough to poke my hand out, palm up in expectation.
“Towel,” I said shortly.
“Okay, but remember to leave the water running, so it interrupts the wards,” Bo instructed.
