BOOK ONE.
#WATTYS2019
She only just began to come to terms with someone permanently leaving her life; she wasn't expecting someone to walk in and steal her heart. Her grocery store, mom and dog are the only things she cares about. Her days are long...
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PART 3 • • •
The water ran over my body, the stream hitting hard against my tense back. There was a gash at the base of my skull, and dark red flowed over my shoulders and down my chest when I bowed my head. Sighing, I grabbed the body wash and squirted the floral soap into my hand.
"Ingrid..."
His voice was light and tired, and I spun to see Arthur staring at me. His body was bruised, and he had a gash across his cheek, and the scar on his eyebrow had a fresh new cut. Sighing, I set the bottle down and rinsed my hand off in the shower before reaching for him.
Arthur's hand was slick with blood and mud, and the sand on his skin was rough. He had stepped into the shower, clothes still on his back and his shoes on his feet, but none of that mattered.
Silently, Arthur watched me tug at his shirt and his pants. I undressed him, unlaced his shoes and threw those out the shower door. They landed heavily against the tile, dirt hopping off. When I turned back to him he was leaning against the shower wall his eyes closed, head back.
I tentatively touched his shoulder, closing the door, he sighed and pulled me into him. The embrace wasn't like any other we had, and this wasn't for me, this was for him. He held me tightly, arms wrapped around my shoulders, his hand entwined with my drenched hair, cradling my head against his chest. Arthur's heart was beating a mile a minute, and his breath was quick, jagged gasps.
I pulled slightly away to look up at him. He was staring at me, eyes red. We just looked at each other, and I wiped the tears away from his face with my palms. Our shower lasted over an hour as I had washed him and comforted him. He didn't want to talk about it just yet, and I wasn't going to pry. I just hoped he would speak to me about it sooner rather than later.
• • •
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THREE WEEKS LATER • • •
"Do you want this here or against the wall?" Arthur asked me, holding our new dark brown leather couch in one arm and a small, but heavy, coffee table in his other.
