Then You Look At Me |COMPLETED|

A Glimpse At Your Scars

It's not, and he knows it.

"Don't say that. Money can never replace anything." He objects. "I am truly sorry Rain if I wasn't so-"

The door to the bathroom cracks open, signaling that Ansel is finished with his shower. Not wanting to discuss personal matters in the ears of others, I sigh, ending the call quickly. "Dad, I'm fine. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Are you safe where you are? I am not in the country right now, if I was-"

"Dad, I know. I'll call you tomorrow, I am tired, okay?"

"Okay, Rain...I love you."

"I love you more." I pop a kiss through the phone and with that, end the call in a swift.

Ansel steps out of the bathroom, swinging me a small smile. I offer one back, but I feel it slowly fades while heat rises to my cheeks as I take notice of his attire, or rather, his lack of attire.

He's without a shirt, just his trousers laying low on his hips. I subtly take notice of the perfect rows of abs on his washboard stomach, residue from the shower trickling down his chest in a race to his abdomen. His hair is messy and damp, landing over his eyes in a freely bouncy motion.

Right, his eyes. He's not wearing his glasses, and it gives me time to take notice of how beautiful his orbs are. His hair doesn't offer a clear view to scrutinize them, but I can still see amply from where I sit. I have never seen him without his glasses. This is the first, and it's quite a sight to behold. He looks like a different person, and it's interesting.

His eyes drift to me and I lower my gaze quickly, pretending I am consumed with my cell when in truth I am repeatedly scrolling down and up my Instagram feed like a mentally ill patient.

He moves over to his closet, turning his back to grab a shirt, and I take the chance to steal another glance. His tattoo, which is always hidden finally becomes visible, and I squint my eyes in efforts of identifying what the drawing is.

After almost straining my eyeballs, my curiosity is solved. It's the snake coiled around the numeral five. The same design at the parlor, and the same one Alaric has. What does that design even mean? I recall the tattoo artist saying that it was specially designed.

Ansel pulls a white T-shirt over his torso, whipping his hair back into place. Lost inside my head, my eyes are unconsciously glued to his bicep. He swings his head around, studying my distant gaze while I creepily gawk at his arm.

He chuckles, his forehead creasing in curiosity. "You okay?"

I snap out of my trance, realizing that I've been sitting and staring at his arm quite disturbingly.

"Uh, yeah...I was just-"

I can't even find an excuse.

He smiles. "Just what?"

"Lost in my head for a moment," I admit.

His smile is relentless as he moves over to me. "Lost inside your head while looking at me?"

A deep blush rises to my cheeks, and I open my mouth to say something but snap it shut when I realize I have no idea what to say.