The Mysterious Mr. Miller

27. SKIN TO SKIN

I was plopped on the couch, searching through Netflix to find something light hearted when I heard a low-pitched scream coming from the bathroom. I hopped off the couch and rushed into my bedroom. “Sean? Are you in there?” I asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yes.” He said calmly but it felt like he was trying to hide his pain.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“No. Now let me change.” He said. He was shot in the legs so there was no way he could move like that and not feel pain. But I also knew he was too proud to admit that.

I was standing outside the door, thinking what to do when I heard a thud, followed by a moan.

“Sean! Let me help you for God’s sake. You are hurt.” I exclaimed in a frustrated voice.

“I’ll manage.” He said.

“You can’t.” I replied.

“Then send in Thomas.” He said.

“Thomas isn’t here. I am your only option.” I said, crossing my arms although he couldn’t see me. For a brief moment, I could hear nothing but silence from inside.

“Fine. Give me a second.” He said. Almost a minute later, he opened the door, revealing his very naked body clad in just underwear. My mouth went dry as my eyes raked at him from head to toe, warmth seeping into the skin of my cheeks.

Abort mission.

“Are you coming or not?” He asked

“Y… Yeah.” I shook my head to get rid of my sinful thoughts.

He limped past me and sat down on a chair to avoid wetting the bed. As he was walking, every muscle in his back clenched. I have a thing for muscular backs and arms and luckily, he had both.

I went to the bathroom to get his clothes and then walked over to him. “Aren’t you going to dry me up first?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.” I walked back again to get the towel and while I was in the bathroom, I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

I then went back to him and began drying his chest. My hands were trembling because every inch of him was perfection. The taut muscles of his chest were leading to abs that looked like they were carved from granite. I didn’t dare to look anywhere below the abs because it would not be good for my sanity.

Putting the towel away, I took his trouser and crouched in front of him. As the trousers grazed the wound on his leg, he winced.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“No.” He said, obviously lying. That’s what I hated about toxic masculinity. It makes men feel like feeling pain would make them inferior and being hurt is something to be ashamed of.

He stood up with difficulty and knotted his trousers. He then sat down and raised his arms as I helped him wear the shirt. Midway through this, I realized his arms were completely fine and he didn’t need my help in wearing a shirt. Sean didn’t bother to tell me that.

“Done.” I said. “Do you need my help lying down?”

“No thanks. I am not a cripple.” He said in irritation and began to walk towards the bed when his foot slipped and he fell on me. Not able to bear his weight, I collapsed backwards and like a shitty ass RomCom, I ended up falling on the bed with him on top of me.

“Ugh…” He groaned in pain.

“See. That’s what happens when you don’t listen to others.” I said, breathing heavily due to the massive weight on me.