Chapter 32 #2
We stay like that for a while, with the steam curling around us and my tears soaking into the front of his shirt.
Eventually, the violent sobbing fades into quiet sniffles.
My body, wrung out and trembling, starts to lean heavier against him, too drained to hold itself up.
I feel like I’ve run a marathon and not simply cried my heart out to him.
“You’re freezing,” he says, not unkindly. “Let me help.”
He moves slowly, with a sort of reverence I don’t expect from someone who once told me he could never love me.
Carefully, he takes the wide-toothed comb from the edge of the tub and eases me around, guiding my back to lean against his chest where he kneels behind the tub.
I should feel embarrassed—even though he’s already seen every inch of me—bare as I am, but I don’t. Not with him. Not right now.
“You don’t have to—” I start, but he cuts me off gently.
“I know. Let me do this anyway.”
I won’t argue with him. Perhaps he needs this as much as I do.
Warm water trickles through my hair as he cups his hand, soaking one section at a time.
The chill I didn’t realize I felt goes away once the warm water flows down my back.
His fingers work through my tangles with surprising gentleness.
Each stroke of the comb is slow, rhythmic, like he’s concentrating too hard, like this matters more than it should.
The silence between us stretches, not uncomfortable, but full. Heavy with things unspoken.
He finds a bottle of something floral-smelling and lathers it through my hair. His fingers massage my scalp in slow, deliberate circles, and for a moment, I melt beneath his touch, allowing my eyes to close.
“It’s hard seeing him like this,” I whisper, voice trembling. I don’t mean to speak, but since I have, I can’t stop now. “He’s trying so hard to pretend like everything’s fine. But I see it. I see how much he’s hurting.”
Zephyr’s hands still for a moment, then they resume, slower than before. “I know,” something breaks in his voice. “It’s killing me too. That’s why I couldn’t bear being around him. It was wrong of me, but…”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize to me.” I tilt my head back to look at him, but his expression is unreadable. Guarded, as always. Then I see it—the faint crack in his armor, the pain behind his eyes. For Niko. For himself. Maybe… for me too?
His fingers pause again. He doesn’t speak, but the way he lowers his head slightly, the way his breath hitches, it’s enough of an answer.
After a while, he rinses the soap from my hair with a cup, careful not to get it in my eyes. The intimacy of it all shouldn’t feel this tender, but it does. It feels like more than kindness. Like a confession in silence. I don’t mean to look too much into it, but I can’t help it.
When he’s done, he stands and grabs a towel from the hook nearby, holding it open for me.
I rise from the tub, water cascading down my naked body.
Zephyr doesn’t look away—but his gaze isn’t hungry or lustful.
It’s reverent. Soft. Something deeper. Something dangerous.
I don’t shy away from his gaze as I move toward him.
He wraps the towel around me and helps pat me dry, fingers brushing my skin with the utmost care. Then he leads me into my old bedroom, dressing me in one of Niko’s soft sleep shirts. It swamps my body, but it smells like home. I only wish I had something of Zephyr’s to wear too.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, my limbs heavy, body wrung out. But Zephyr doesn’t leave, and I silently thank him for that.
“Lie down,” he says, tugging the blanket back.
“But we should go see Niko,” I argue.
Zephyr shakes his head, unrelenting. “He’s still asleep. Finnick is with him. He will be fine without us. Finnick tells me you haven’t slept yet.”
Traitor, I think, but don’t say.
“So, lie down, Evangeline. It’s time to get some sleep,” he adds.
There’s no point in arguing. If Niko is stubborn, then Zephyr is impossible. He won’t budge, not on this. Plus, I doubt he’s had much sleep either. So, I do as he asks of me and tuck myself into the soft bedding. Despite my protests, the soft mattress feels so good against my tired body.
I half expect Zephyr to leave, but he hesitates for a beat, then climbs in behind me.
He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. I stiffen in surprise, but the warmth of his body seeps into mine like sunlight through cracked stone.
It’s easy to relax against him, and I don’t realize just how much I need his warmth until now.
His voice is barely above a whisper. “You’re not alone, Evangeline. No matter how this ends… I’ll make sure you’re never alone.”
My breath catches, and I don’t respond. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m afraid my voice will shatter if I try.
I don’t want to say the wrong words and ruin whatever fragile foundation we are building.
I nod instead, fingers curling around the edge of his sleeve like it might keep him here longer.
Sleep starts to pull at me, slow and thick.
Just before I fall, I feel the faintest press of lips at the crown of my head. A ghost of a kiss.
Then nothing.
Only warmth.
Only him.
Only peace, for the first time in days.