She probably tuned me out, didn’t listen to a thing I said.
She had more patience than I do.
I would probably end up telling my kid to fuck off or something if they intruded on my alone time. Or maybe I would get used to it, having a rugrat around, always in my space—the way I’m sort of used to Samick’s constant presence, like it’s natural to me now that he’s around.
I step over my backpack where I dropped it before using the toilet, right in the middle of the room, and I peel off my gloves.
Samick lounges on the edge of the tub. He leans back against the wall, bringing a boot up to rest on the ledge, and he starts to pick at his dinner.
I inch closer to the edge of the bath.
Samick dumped enough hot water in there to have ribbons of steam wafting up from the surface.
I take one look at it, and I’m suddenly wrestling the clothes off my body in a hurry.
I strip down to the nude, letting even my underwear crumple to the floor—and I dip my toes into the water.
More than warm, it’s hot—but not scalding.
I scramble in.
And I jolt, rigid, for a moment.
It’s that kind of hot that takes a beat to get used to, like it’s searing my skin, but it isn’t really, it’s just much hotter than the air in the bathroom.
I keep my cheek to Samick’s cold, unfeeling stare as I sink into the water.
I can’t stop the wispy breath from escaping me, because this is pure fucking bliss.
A full belly from a mouth-watering meal, a warm bath, and just a handful of fae alien fucks around me.
Not even the cool green of Samick’s stare unsettles me.
My lashes shut on him, his knee hiked, the spoon lifting to his parted pink lips, and I sink.
The water rises over my body.
Then it touches my chin, and the world ceases to exist. It all goes quiet.
I listen to the soft silence, only disturbed by the occasional sounds of a spoon cutting through the stew and water trickling.
I’m in no rush to get out of the water, and Samick doesn’t nudge me along.
I soak.
I think I even drift off for a minute.
The only disruption is the glare of the white torchlight turning my eyelids red instead of a peaceful black.
Everything else lulls me—and I have to force myself to open my eyes, otherwise I’ll doze off completely.
The moment I blink, and water droplets fall from my lashes, Samick lifts his unfeeling gaze to mine.
Like darkness needs to cling to him, shadows cover half of his face, and the light only gently brushes over the other side.
The raggedness of my quiet voice should surprise me, “Where are we?”
Slowly, he lifts the spoon from the bowl.
