I wake up a little disoriented, only slowly remembering where I am. I glance around looking for Gavrilo, but he's left without me. My hand searches for the rest of his warmth on the sheets; they're as cold as they can be. While waking up next to him sure would've been awkward, I can't help but miss him. My fingers trail the rim of the collar around my neck, then carefully assert pressure so I can feel the spikes.
Pervert.
I actually blush, something I haven't done in ages. After all, I might be a great actor and it's easy to fake even tears - but blushing? That's near impossible.
I bite down on my lower lip and pull a pillow into my lap, squeezing it for comfort. Gavrilo's scent embraces me. My body's reaction -the fluttering of my heart- reminds me what a dangerous game I'm playing. He's giving me something I never dared dream of, and I'm too weak to deny it. I know that I need to keep my distance or I'll end up hurt, badly. That's something I can't afford, yet I don't believe I'll listen to that voice of reason.
Gavrilo Kemp, murderer and dealer of anything you can attach a price to. But whatever atrocities he's capable of, he's shown me nothing but kindness and devotion. I even slept in his bed, right by his side, probably snuggling up to him. Maybe he'd held me in his arms, keeping the nightmares at bay.
It's true that I'm unusually rested - and though I think I should anyway, I don't feel the need to work out. I'm fine.
A smile climbs onto my lips, and I fall back into the sheets, causing a dull thud. My legs kick at the air while I squeeze the pillow, too happy to remain composed. This bliss is more than I could have asked for, and I didn't even ask at all. I roll onto my side, nuzzling the other pillow to inhale more of his wonderful scent.
"What are you doing?" Gavrilo asks with a hint of interest and none of rebuke. I flinch nonetheless, feeling awkward at being caught. All I can do is quickly put the pillow aside before I sit up straight, hands on my thighs and gaze fixed on my fingers. "Oh, forgot."
The bed shifts when he sits down on it, then leans over to remove the collar single-handedly. His fingers are cold and a little wet. I roll my shoulders, stretching the sore skin of my neck.
"Did you sleep well?" Gavrilo asks, already getting up again to put the collar away. I dare a quick look at him; his hair is wet, dripping water onto his glistening back. He's wrapped a towel around his hips.
"Yes, Master Kemp."
He chuckles softly.
"Good. First I thought something was wrong when I pulled out and you didn't move, but then you snored-" his voice trails off as if he's about to add something. "Anyways, I couldn't bear to kick you out; usually you have such a light sleep. The guards say you're always tossing and turning, and then you just lay there like a rock."
I don't know what to say. His concern is heartwarming, almost flattering, and he's probably right. My nightmares had been docile last night.
"Are you dreaming about the fire?" His question startles me enough to make me flinch. Anxiety locks my heart in a cold grip, pushing down on my lungs as well. I gulp to clear my throat, all the while vividly remembering the hands holding me down every night. The pain, the panic. "Sorry, forget that I asked."
"No, it's alright," I say quickly, not wanting him to feel awkward. I shift my weight nervously. "I'd just rather not talk about it."
"Sure, sure," he mutters. "Really, please just forget that I asked. I'm just glad you slept well last night."
"Well, it was a nice evening," I admit quietly, hoping the compliment will let him know that there is nothing for him to apologize for. "If you don't mind me saying so, Master Kemp."
I glance over to him. While I'm not allowed to look into his eyes, his lips can give almost as much away. They are smiling softly, and I feel my heart respond to his contentedness.
"I don't. And I enjoyed our time as well. I'm really glad you came back."
"Of course," I reply immediately and frown before adding, "Master Kemp. "
Gavrilo laughs quietly, then waves me over. "Come on, I think you deserve a warm bath after all this time. And we should put some ointments on your neck."
"Thank you, Master Kemp."
The prospect of a steaming bath truly has me excited. I follow Gavrilo into the adjacent bathroom that is larger than mine, featuring what looks like a whirlpool to me. I allow myself a smile while I wait for further instructions. I admit I'm a little impatient.
He turns on the water, and it bursts into the white tub like a raging storm. He then takes a small glass bottle from a shelve, pouring some of the contents into the water that turns a light green. The scent of herbs rises with the steam, but I can't quite place it.
"In with you," he says lightly, flashing me a brilliant smile that has my heart in my throat. I force my gaze to the ground, surprised by my own reaction, then carefully make my way over to the tub. Gavrilo sits down on its rim, still clad in nothing but his towel, and leans down to run his fingers through the water.
"Tell me if you want it any warmer, okay? Or colder."
"Yes, Master Kemp," I reply quietly, struggling with the intimacy. I climb into the tub, still refusing to look at him while my skin aches in anticipation of his touch. The water engulfs me, almost too hot yet that makes it perfect - especially after all these freezing showers of the past week. I lean back, closing my eyes with a sigh.
When the water reaches up to my shoulders, Gavrilo turns it off, and a second later, a handful of streams gush out from behind me, firmly massaging my back. I groan in pleasure, shifting so they hit my muscles right where I need them to. Gavrilo chuckles.
"Enjoying yourself?"
I hum in agreement, though the sound borders on a content moan.
"You know, I could get in there with you. Maybe give you a little massage myself," he suggests nonchalantly. His voice is barely audible over the noise of the whirlpool. My eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of him, and I notice that he's making no attempt to actually live up to his words. Instead, he's leaning back on his hand with a grin, watching me intently.
"Thank you, Master Kemp, but I think with the two of us, it might get rather cramped."
"Do you?" He laughs and I agree with a nod, mirroring his grin.
"I do."
Gavrilo's expression softens and he reaches out to stroke my cheek, making the grin drop from my lips. I suck in a sharp breath at the shiver that travels down my spine at his touch, and it becomes frightening when it doesn't travel straight to my groin, but makes a quick detour to my heart first. I lower my gaze, overcome by shame and guilt and the desire to lean into the touch.
He pulls his hand back way too soon and at the same time too late. His touch has set my skin aflame, yet the loss of it leaves me uncomfortably cold. The thought of parting ways is frightening, and betraying his trust will be even worse.