espionage [h.s.]

SIXTY ONE

HARRY

"Milos?" I echo her words in confusion, trying to keep her upright so she doesn't slip back under the water. She's mostly coughed up all the water now, but she's still gasping for air and choking on it at the same time, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Did you just say Milos? Did he do this?"

She nods in between coughs and splutters. "I t-think s-so," she gasps, still struggling to catch her breath. "I t-think he s-sent the man, he came in h-here and h-eld me under the w-water...." At the mention of him, Rochelle's eyes suddenly widen and then she becomes frantic again, thrashing around in the tub as her gaze darts around the room in a fearful panic. "Is he h-here? Oh my g-god, he m-might still be h-here! We n-need to g-get out! I n-need to get o-out! I n-need-"

"Hey, hey, shhh, it's ok." I gently clasp each side of her head, both to steady her and also to try and get her to look at me. Eventually, once her panic dies down a little, she finally raises her gaze up to mine, her tear-filled eyes blinking up at me as I try my best to soothe her with my reassurances. "Shh. No one's here, it's ok. You're ok." She keeps her eyes trained on mine as I attempt to calm her down, shushing her softly and stroking my hand along her wet hair while she focuses on returning her breathing to its normal pace. We stay like that for a few minutes, doing nothing but staring and breathing in the silence, our breaths mingling in with the gentle sound of the trickling water.

Eventually though, once Rochelle has snapped out of her panicked daze, she suddenly pulls away from me, clearly remembering everything that's happened between us as reality sets in once again. Along with putting some distance between us, she quickly crosses her arms over her chest to cover herself from me, averting her gaze from mine in a manner of discomfort. Clearing her throat, she quietly mumbles a quick, "Um, thanks."

I notice she's shivering, so I stand up and grab one of the towels hanging from the back of the door. Walking back over to the tub, I hold out the towel for her, respectfully averting my gaze as she climbs out of the bath and wraps it around herself. Obviously, I've seen her naked more times than I count, but I'm guessing that she's already feeling vulnerable right now, and I don't want to do anything to exacerbate that.

Once she's covered with the towel, I turn back just as she's tucking it in at the front. A stark contrast from the paleness of few minutes earlier, the colour has now been restored in her cheeks, and I swear her blush increases a little when our eyes meet seconds before she quickly tears her gaze away again. After adjusting the towel a little more, tugging it up to cover her cleavage, she brings her gaze back to mine again, confusion along with a hint of accusation etched into her features as she finally asks, "What are you doing here?"

I was expecting this question, of course, so I'm not quite sure why I haven't come up with an answer to it yet. After running through a couple of possible responses in my head, I decide to just go for the most honest one. "Connie was worried about you after a phone call you made to her. We came to check on you."