Show Me That I'm Better | Post Malone

VII

*Austin's POV*

He didn't mean to stare. He was incredibly conscious of the way his eyes had slowly made their way up her body, lingering on her without his consent.

It was like he had been hit with a bucket of iced water, his nausea and pain suddenly the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think, all he could see, was her body.

He knew he needed to say something. He was already beyond mortified from the events that had unfolded over the past hour and this wasn't helping. He needed to blurt out something, anything to try and relieve the tension. She'd been so fucking kind, so fucking patient and forgiving and this was how he was repaying her?

"Um..." of course his brain would fail him now. Of all times for him to be at a loss for words, smooth talking Post Malone now couldn't think of anything more than a sound that barely registered as a word?

"Can we please just get in the shower?" He couldn't decide which was lower, her voice, which had taken all his concentration to decipher, or her eyes, which were focused on the slate grey bath mat under her feet. He watched for a moment as she nervously played with her ring before reaching out his hand and enveloping it with his own.

Her eyes returned to meet his as he stood slowly, trying to avoid his dizziness returning from standing up too quickly. He took a step closer to her and wondered if the embarrassment and shame he saw in her eyes now was even close to what she had seen in his tonight.
"It's okay" he whispered, delicately brushing her dark auburn hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Austin"

"What is it?" His brows furrowed in concern as his hand cautiously cupped the side of her face.

"Your boxers" he looked down to see that he had managed to not only cover his chest, but it had now dropped down to the last thin piece of cloth protecting any possible dignity he had left at this point in time.

He nodded his head, trying to psych himself up to remove them, but before he had a chance to he felt her delicate fingers slide between the material and his burning skin, gently tugging them to the ground. She had kept her eyes locked on his, a gesture he couldn't have been more thankful for. He kicked the loose material out of the way, left strewn on the floor with her discarded clothes, before leading them in to the shower.

The hot water scolded his skin as he entered, closely followed by Delilah. Their hands remained locked as he positioned them both under the shower head, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes as the water began to relax his aching body. Her left hand was pulled away for a millisecond before being replaced by her right as he watched her reach over to the ledge and grab the body wash and loofah.

Part of him wanted to fight her off, insist he wasn't so useless that he couldn't wash himself, but his mind was still so thrown from everything that had happened this evening, from the past few weeks really, that he wasn't sure he'd even be able to put the sentence together.

He remained still and focused on her as she began running the loofah over his shoulders and neck. Fuck it felt good. The heat of the water and the gentle scratch of the loofah against his skin felt like the perfect massage he hadn't realised his tired body had been craving. He let out a deep breath, stifling a moan as she began running the loofah over his chest and around his sides. His eyes snapping shut in a desperate attempt to shut his mind up and allow himself to just relax in this moment.

How did they get here? A few days ago this scenario wouldn't have even played as a fantasy for him. She was stunning, a natural beauty who was never overly done up with make up, the soft curves of her body something she'd developed herself rather than having bought. Yet he'd never seen her that way.