M-13

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I hear the shower turn on, but that's not the only sound I hear. There's pattering footsteps and I think it's Silas moving around, but it's getting late and I had thought he was in bed.

Biting my bottom lip, I slide out of bed and walk out into the kitchen. There, I find Silas with a ball of paper towels in his hand wiping his hands and shirt and I can almost smell the stress radiating off of him.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, even though I think I know what he's trying to wipe off of himself.

Maybe Atticus was right about him eavesdropping when we were having sex?

"Uh... my bathroom didn't have toilet paper," he says, his face bright red in the dim light of the kitchen. "And I spilled... pee."

"You didn't even attempt to create a good lie," I comment, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it with warm water. "Here."

Silas is bright red. "Thanks," he murmurs. "Um... you said I didn't create a good lie? What did you mean by that?"

I raise an eyebrow and look pointedly at the hem of his shirt. "Well, pee isn't white," I tell him. "Don't be embarrassed, all adults have sexual needs. Masturbation is a good way to relieve stress, which I'm sure you're experiencing a lot of with everything that has gone on in your life in the last seventy-two hours. And next time, it might serve you better to just change your shirt."

"Yeah..." Silas trails off, looking me up and down. "Uh, goodnight."

He runs off and I watch him go.

I turn on the kettle and make myself a cup of tea, returning to my room once I'm done. I pass Silas' borrowed room, opening the door slightly and finding him curled up on the bed.

He's cute.

Shut up subconscious Lincoln!

You have a boyfriend and he's your patient.

He is here for his safety and I'm studying him. I'm not supposed to be perving on him! Plus, Silas is, like, four years younger than me and five years younger than Atticus.

He's basically a child!

Not only that, but he doesn't trust anyone, not that I blame him. If I had the malfunction, I'd close everyone out as well, because you never know who to trust in this world, especially when it comes to being one of them.

I close the door and go back to our bedroom, where Atticus is laying in bed, his hair still wet.

"You're going to soak the pillows!" I whine, because I hate when he soaks the pillows with his wet hair.

Atticus shrugs. "Oh well," he says, plugging in his phone and laying down, holding his arms open. "Come here, babes."

I set my cup of tea down and crawl into his arms. "I think I'm going to ask Silas if he wants a job at the office as a receptionist," I tell him, rubbing my fingers over his pectorals. "He said he has never had a job, right?"

"Yes, I think that would be good for him," Atticus agrees, kissing my forehead. "What're you going to do tomorrow?"

"Probably some shopping... I'm changing our sheets because they haven't been changed for a couple of weeks... I'll probably make Silas tag along because I think he would be good company and I'd like to get to know him better."