Jean-Jacques opened the door to Chloé's bedroom, greeted by her icy eyes glaring at him, hurt shining in them. She looked far too small curled in on herself in the middle of the bed, the blood no longer worn proudly, instead draped across her skin like a cloak made of disgrace. It made him sick to his stomach. To think he had given Chloé the opportunity to release herself with him then let her think he had tossed her aside like rubbish. He regretted leaving her, he hadn't even considered how it would look to her if she woke up alone.
"I prepared a bath for us. For you." His hand tightened on the doorknob. I didn't abandon you.
She drank him in, studied the way he hadn't cleaned himself, still mostly undressed from their violent affair, and she relaxed minutely. "Carry me."
Jean-Jacques made his way across the room deliberately, focusing on managing every tense step as it came until he reached the bed. Chloé made no effort to move towards or even reach for him, he had to take the initiative to place one knee on the bed to close the distance. As he gathered her in his arms she was limp and passive, though once she was settled she leaned her head into the crook of his neck and breathed.
"It's bad manners to leave without saying anything, my boy."
The use of my was superfluous and still it had Jean-Jacques' stomach fluttering. "I'm sorry."
Chloé nodded. Jean-Jacques adjusted his grip on her, enjoying how the state of Chloé’s clothes allowed more bare contact than usual. She was soft and warm beneath his touch.
He carried her to the bathroom, feeling unexpected light-headed from the exertion, likely due to blood loss. He was relieved to set her down at the threshold and walk in together. The large tub sat against the wall, freshly filled with water heated by astermite apparatuses.
He had chosen to only light candles, forgoing the astermite lights. Candles were gentler and left the room just bright enough to see without exposing everything. He knew he wasn't embarrassed around Chloé, especially not after everything they had just done to each other, but he thought they both might appreciate some darkness to sink into. In its own way it made the atmosphere more intimate, not less.
When he set Chloé down he helped her remove her dress, ragged strips peeling from her skin. Then he helped her into the bath, offering a stabilising arm as she climbed inside, settling in until the water came up to her collarbones.
He grabbed soap and a sponge and took to washing her body. Chloé raised her limbs compliantly when needed, making the work quick and easy. When she was clean Jean-Jacques placed the cleaning implements down and sat back on his heels. Chloé glared at him.
"You aren't my servant, Jean-Jacques," she said, quiet and frustrated. "Get in."
Jean-Jacques jerked, surprised. The candlelight flickered, disturbing the distorted orange orbs reflecting on the top layer of the dark water. Chloé slowly raised her knees up to her chest, not looking back at him. As if the verbal invitation wasn't clear enough. How could he refuse?
Gingerly, Jean-Jacques rose to his feet, clumsy fingers working to tug his pants off, grateful he hadn't replaced his shirts after their tryst. With even greater care he stepped over the side of the bath and lowered himself in. Water still sloshed over the side and onto the tile, unavoidably displaced by him regardless of the caution he had employed.
They sat facing one another, knees pulled close to their chests.
"Don't leave me after drinking my blood again," Chloé snapped.
Jean-Jacques' shoulders curled inwards shamefully. "I am sorry."
"And you're sleeping in my room every night from now on. Like you used to." It was worded as an order, yet Chloé's head was down, voice uncertain.
YOU ARE READING
Empire of the Wolf
FanfictionThey are the center of each other's worlds, every action designed to draw them closer as their isolation and loneliness warps their bond into something just as likely to tear them apart as it is to be everything they need. Or: I want to have an in-d...
