Rosalie Kasten is out of luck and out of time. For the last two years, she's been living on borrowed time. After her involvement with the death of Edwin Pierce - Alexander Pierce's son - it's only a matter of time before Hydra comes for her.
James...
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𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝛐𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝛐 the bathroom, where Alpine is sitting next to the massive black marble tub with swirling red accents. She looks utterly displeased with the two of them. Rosalie chuckles as he sets her down next to the cat and sink, while he goes to turn on the water for a bath. She reaches out her hand, and the cat sniffs it before agreeing to be pet.
"D'you think she's disappointed in us?" James asks as he runs both of his large hands over the cat's soft white fur.
"Probably in me," she says and slowly hops down from the counter next to the sink.
She steps into the warm water filling up in the tub The water seems to reach into the marrow of her bones, and a deep sigh leaves her as she sinks lower and lower. Her eyes close as she simply enjoys the feeling.
"Move over," his voice interrupts, and she looks up to see him standing completely naked, towering above her.
"What?" She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
She's trying so hard not to think how he's built like a damn Greek god, standing there in all his naked glory. His tattoos are now interrupted by bite marks from her teeth or crescent moons from her nail. Rosalie smirks at the bruises.
"I'm gettin' in," he grunts, and her eyes trail back to his face. He's smirking.
Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, and she moves forward, allowing him to slide in behind her. There's plenty of room for him in the large tub, but before she has time to move away, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer.
"Barnes, what are you doing?" Rosalie asks in a plain voice, glancing over her shoulder to look up at him.
"Shut up, Kasten," he grumbles and grabs a washcloth from the side.
She isn't sure Loki has had anyone stay in the room since she left. Everything in the whole apartment is exactly how it used to be. There are still the same brands of soap and shampoo she liked to use. She wonders if her old Valentino perfume is still in the small cupboard by the toilet. Rosalie doesn't have time to think about it as she feels the washcloth against her skin, and James starts washing her down.
"Why're you being nice?" She asks while he drags it down her back, cleaning her body with the familiar light plum-scented soap.
"What did I just tell you?" He grunts, voice rumbling through his chest, and she shakes her head.
She frowns a little sceptically. She never expected him to do something nice like this for her. Maybe having a conversation in his way softened him up a bit. It could be an after-sex thing. Give it a couple of hours, and he's probably going to be an asshole once again. One thing is for sure, she still doesn't like him. He does give good dick, though.
