The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Seventeen

"What's wrong?" Sorin panted, knife in hand. His eyes trailed down to me, sitting alone -naked- in the bathtub. I watched his jaw go slack. "What-."

"Did you have to break down the fucking door?" I asked, staring at the slab of wood laying splinted on the ground. Sorin's brows drew together, shaking his head as if coming out of a trance.

"Huh?"

"The door was unlocked, dumbass," I said, slower, my voice coming out a near hiss. Now, his face hardened, eyes glistening.

"You were calling for help so excuse me for rushing to you," he spat back.

I scoffed a laugh. "I was calling your name."

"For my help."

"Not for something that requires a knife and breaking down doors."

"Well obviously for something."

"For a fucking towel!" Sorin hesitated a brief moment before asking,

"You... need a towel?" I motioned to the top half of my body exposed out of the water.

"Obviously I'm in a bit of a dilemma." Sorin threw his hands up exasperatedly.

"You woke me up from the best sleep I've had since I was assigned to your short ass for a towel!?" My lips curled.

"Well, obviously I should've woken you up for better listening skills." Huffing an irritated breath, Sorin stared at me for a minute. Eventually, he turned and I heard his footsteps in the next room. At first, I didn't know if he was coming back until he appeared in the doorway again, towel in hand.

"You see, was that so hard?" I mumbled, reaching an arm out for the white-lined towel, expecting him to hand it to me. Instead, he leaned against the wall and hung the towel from a single finger. I was confused until I saw the smirk on his face. My gut sank.

"Come and get it," he told me, smile broadening.

"Come on, stop fucking with me."

"I'm not," Sorin beamed.

I scowled. "Give me the stupid towel."

"No." My lips curled in disdain.

He wasn't budging. Damn it.

Inhaling once, I let my hands wrap around the edge of the tub. Fucking asshole. I pushed up, keeping eye contact with Sorin. The suds from the bath slowly dripped from my body as I stepped onto the wood. Water began puddling around me. Heat rushed to my face.

Sorin's face had gone blank. The smirk was gone. He stood there with the towel still on his finger, but there wasn't an ounce of banter left. In fact, I had no clue what the expression he held was, yet by the time I'd walked to him, Sorin had recovered his foolish grin.

"Ah, nice, assassin. Would you spin for me?" I snatched the towel from him.

"Shut up." Wrapping the towel around me, I continued glaring up at Sorin. Then, I moved around him and went through the doorway to the next room.

Bending down next to my bag, I pulled out some clothes and moved to the bed. I dropped my towel again to wipe the water droplets from my legs, not caring whether or not Sorin was staring. He instigated this, so he could stare at what he couldn't have.

I changed daintily, pulling a shirt over my head and sliding loose pants on. Afterward, I worked on wringing my hair out with my towel. When I turned, Sorin was leaning against the bathroom doorway, staring at me. I waited for a snide comment, but nothing came.