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WHILE DRYING HERSELF OFF BAILEY looked at her reflection in the mirror and noticed a red mark on her hip. She examined it closely. She must've gotten it when she fell. It looked like it was going to bruise but it didn't hurt. Bailey then studied her hands, her bandages were wet now, so they were useless. She peeled them off and looked at her palms. It didn't hurt anymore. She opened and closed her hand. Yeah, she was fine. She tossed her bandages in the trash and picked up the clothes Paul had set by the door for her.
She unfolded them. First was a black t-shirt. She pulled it over her head, slipped her arms through the arm holes and stared at her reflection again. She inhaled through her nose, grabbing hold of the front of the shirt by the caller. It had the faint scent of some popular laundry detergent brand and Paul. She smelled it, cheeks reddening—it smelled really nice.
Next was the underwear; boxer shorts. They still smelled like their packaging and she determined that they hadn't been worn before, and were likely brand new. She pulled them on; they were too big so she had to roll them a bit so they wouldn't slip off.
Bailey looked at her reflection again. It looked like she was wearing nothing but a shirt. The boxer shorts reached her mid-thigh, but the shirt was nearly at her knees. She looked over at the final item, a pair of jogging pants. Bailey grimaced, she didn't like the feeling of the material the pants were made of and so she didn't wear them. Instead, she picked it up in her hands and while still drying her hair walked out of the bathroom.
Once she finished drying her hair she tossed the towel into a hamper she came across in the hallway. It looked like Paul must've gone downstairs, the second floor sounded empty. There were four rooms on the second floor. The first was the bathroom, then there was a closet/storage space, followed by two bedrooms. The first bedroom's door was wide open. It was tidy, with a few sports posters hanging on the wood walls that weren't painted. The bed was located on the left side of the room, headboard against the wall. It'd been made nicely, with a beautiful embroidered quilt sprawled over it. On the other side of the room were the windows, they overlooked a few other houses and then the woods, further in the distance the mountains were visible. At the foot of the windows was a long, cushioned bench made of what looked to be dark cedar wood.
Bailey knew it was Paul's room because of the single pair of jean shorts that were lying on the bench, as well as the opened closet. He must have changed his clothes too. She folded the pants she hadn't used and placed them next to the shorts before walking out.
The final room, what was probably the master bedroom, was out of sight. It was at the end of the hall, the lights were shut and the door was closed. Bailey stared at it curiously but decided to go downstairs to meet up with Paul. As she descended she could hear and smell food being cooked. Bailey felt her stomach growl—she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast and she was hungry.
