A Moment of Quiet
Chapter 58
A Moment of Quiet
Isabella
The cabin feels like a haven after the chaos of the night, the warmth of the fire offering a stark contrast to the cold tension we left behind. Aslanov is in the bathtub now, the water warm and soothing, though the chill from the cliff still lingers between us.
I sit on the edge of the bathtub, my legs stretched out, the warmth of the room surrounding us as I gently move the razor along his jawline. Aslanov leans back against the side of the tub, his eyes closed, his face softened in a way I rarely see. The harshness that usually defines him is gone, replaced by something I can’t quite describe—something vulnerable, something real.
The cool metal of the razor glides over his skin, careful and precise. I can feel the tension in his muscles, the weight of everything he carries still lingering beneath the surface, even if it’s not as suffocating as it was before.
The silence between us is comfortable now, the kind of quiet that only comes after unspoken truths are shared. But even in the peace, I can’t help but let my thoughts drift back to tonight.
I take a breath, focusing on the task in front of me. “You should never do that again,” I say, my voice gentle but firm, the words carefully chosen.
His eyes flicker open, meeting mine, his expression unreadable, though there’s a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or understanding. He doesn’t speak immediately, but I feel the weight of his gaze on me, steady and unblinking.
I continue to work, the razor moving smoothly over his skin as I adjust my position, leaning in closer, careful not to nick him. “You scared me, you know?” I whisper. “I don’t think you fully realize how much.”
His lips press together in a thin line, and for a long moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he closes his eyes again, leaning further into my lap, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little more.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice low, almost a whisper, but it’s enough.
I finish shaving the last bit of stubble and set the razor down, my fingers lingering at the nape of his neck as I gently stroke the skin there, the soft warmth of his body against me.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I say, my voice soft, but resolute. “You just need to promise me you won’t push yourself that far again. Like you said, I need you to shield me and more.”
His eyes open slowly, his gaze meeting mine in the dim light, and for a brief second, he looks more human than I’ve ever seen him—tired, but soft, vulnerable, and real.
“I promise,” he says, his voice a quiet promise of his own. And in that moment, I know he means it.
I reach for the towel beside me, gently dabbing his face dry.
I finish drying his face, the towel soft against his skin, and as I pull it away, his hand suddenly reaches up, pulling me toward him. Before I can react, I’m in his arms, my body sinking into the water with him. The warmth envelops me instantly, the steam from the bath swirling around us.
For a moment, I’m caught off guard, but then I feel his grip tighten around me, pulling me closer. His breath is steady, though there’s a depth of emotion behind it that I can’t quite place. The water ripples as I settle against him, my legs tangled with his, and his arms wrap around me like a lifeline.
I gently trace my fingers along his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble still lingering, the warmth of his skin beneath my touch. I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, my lips lingering for just a moment, savoring the simple intimacy.
His eyes flicker open, and for the briefest second, I catch the faintest glint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. His dimples deepen, and he lets out a small laugh, the sound soft and unexpectedly light. It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard—a sound that feels like a soft echo in the chaos of everything that’s happened.
Before I can fully register it, he pulls me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss, tender but full of something deeper. The world outside fades away, leaving only the feel of him against me, the soft flicker of warmth surrounding us both.
The kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if we’re trying to pour all the unsaid words, all the emotion we’ve been holding onto, into this one moment. His hands move to my back, pulling me against him as if there’s nothing that could keep us apart. His lips are insistent, but still so tender, as if he’s asking for reassurance, for connection, for something more than just the fleeting touch of a kiss.
And in that moment, it’s only the two of us—lost in the kiss, in the warmth, in the silence that speaks louder than any words could.