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Which was a moment to cry my eyes out before enjoying a calming bath.
We didn’t speak much after that. Dimitris silently moved through the room to the bathroom to get the bath ready. He proceeded to pick out my outfit, and I guessed since I didn’t tell him I wasn’t feeling up to it, he went along with everything so things would be smooth after a soak.
Getting out of bed was hard, I wouldn’t lie, but Dimitris helped me without comment, and soon I was soaking in the steamy hot waters filled with various herbs and Epsom salts.
I didn’t want to admit it, but the bath was exactly what I needed.
The tension faded from my muscles, and my headache dimmed tremendously from its pounding fury. I could doze off if I wasn’t fighting to keep my eyes open while I stared up at the ceiling. I was trying to think of how to approach this next stage of life.
Attempting to figure out how the fuck I’d get out of this mental space. It was hard because it wasn’t as if I sought to be depressed, conflicted, physically sick. I was pushing myself past my limits and it felt like my world was crumbling down so that I could build something new.
A new foundation. A place where the previous rules that held me down didn’t apply.
I knew this. Within my body, mind, and soul, I’d been preparing for this dramatic change. My past self would ask me why the fuck was I breaking under the pressure when I was so fucking close and shit. It was true.
Why the hell am I breaking now?
I’d been through worse, hadn’t I? Been through so much that anyone else would have surely pulled the trigger.
I had pulled the trigger, but I’m still here. That means something. It has to mean something.
“William.”
I blinked out of my daze to look over and see Dimitris pulling his shirt off.
Okay. Maybe all I really need is a sexy Alpha stripping in front of me to not feel so bad.
"Do you process your thoughts before thinking them?” he inquired as he stared down at me.
“Now why the fuck would I do that?” That just sounded stupid. “That’s why they’re my thoughts. They can be incoherent sentences of utter bullshit.”
“Can you shut up and scoot forward?”
“If you’re planning on punishing me or giving me some rectal bullshit, I ain’t doing it,” I concluded as I began to move forward in the tub. “That includes your cock.”
“So high fucking maintenance,” he grunted.
I couldn’t really see what he was doing, but what he was planning became clear when he moved to the side of the tub that was behind me and gripped the sides to gracefully lift and lower himself into the bubble herb bath in three solid seconds.
Oh fucking Goddess, am I sharing a tub with Dimitris fucking Moore?
"Thoughts,” he groaned and hooked an arm around my neck which forced me to lean right back into him. “Don’t you dare get horny because I’m not stroking shit.”
“So…” I actually needed to process that. “Meaning we’ll do this again, right?”
“You realize as a guy you send mixed messages, right?”
Observant, isn’t he?
“I thrive on this friction between us,” I admitted, though I held a bit of cockiness to my quiet confession. “When you get mad, it makes me far too happy.”
“At least you’re honest when you feel like being honest,” he grumbled but encouraged us to further relax in the tub, even though the water was overflowing onto the floor.
“Are you paying for my tile repair?” I pondered.
“Water ain’t going to ruin shit,” he muttered. “Stop talking.”
“You like when I can keep a conversation with you.”
