Sorayah stepped into the bathhouse, the warm steam curling around her like a gentle embrace. The scent of rose petals mingled with the humid air, calming yet heavy with unspoken tension.
Dimitri was already in the bath, half-submerged in warm water strewn with petals. His head rested against the edge, eyes shut, the barest hint of contentment softening his features.
Without wasting a moment, Sorayah walked closer, her footsteps light against the stone floor. She picked up the sponge placed at the edge of his bath and knelt beside him. Her hands, steady and practiced, dipped the sponge into the water before gently scrubbing along his shoulder and chest.
The silence between them was thick, broken only by the quiet sounds of water rippling around his body and the rhythmic motions of her hands against his skin.
Then, finally, Sorayah spoke, her voice low but sharp with restrained curiosity.
