not for sale ; p. js ff

part 4

"You're really quiet," he muses, his voice dipping into something thoughtful. "But I guess that's the point, huh?"

There's no cruelty in the words.

Just curiosity.

For the first time since she entered this house, someone is talking to her like a person.

Even if she is not one.

Sunoo shifts again, his hands moving higher, over the length of her legs, past the jut of her knees.

She does not flinch when his fingers press against the thinness of her inner thighs, wiping away the filth that has long since become part of her skin.

Nothing about this is strange.

Nothing about this is intimate.

Because she is not a woman to him.

And he is not a threat to her.

The warmth of the water does not reach her.

She feels nothing.

She simply lets it happen.

When the process is finished, Sunoo exhales softly, rolling his wrists as if to shake off the tension from holding her in place.

"You're cleaner now," he observes, reaching for a thick towel and draping it over her shoulders. "I don't think you've ever been cleaned like this before."

She doesn't respond.

Because he is right.

She sits there, wrapped in warmth that does not belong to her, as Sunoo steps back, wiping his hands on his sleeve.

Then, he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studies her reflection in the mirror.

"You look... different."

Not a compliment.

Not a mockery.

Just an observation.

She does not look at herself.

She does not need to.

She already knows.

Her hair is sleek, falling in perfect waves down her spine. Her skin is smooth, no longer hidden beneath layers of dirt.

She looks presentable.

Like she was meant to be here.

Sunoo's expression shifts just slightly, something flickering behind his fox-like eyes.

"You're not what I expected," he murmurs.

She blinks.

For the first time, there is something in his tone that is not amusement or indifference.

Something closer to understanding.

But before she can place it, it's gone.

Sunoo shakes his head, offering a small, almost rueful smile.

"Well, I guess it's not my business." He steps back, nodding toward the folded clothes on the counter. "Get dressed. He'll want to see you soon."

She does not move.

Because for the first time, she wonders what it means for Jay to see her now.

Jay was not waiting for her.

He wasn't sitting at his desk, anticipating her arrival, wondering what she would look like now that she had been scrubbed clean of whatever filth she had carried with her.