Once we reach his apartment he locks the door and turns on the light, looking at me again. I am still shivering, my nose probably red, my hair a mess.
He simply picks me up and carries me to the bathroom where he sets me down and starts drawing a bath. Wordlessly he pulls off my, well his, hoodie, then the high-necked shirt, eyes locking onto the green and yellow fading bruises. He reaches out his hand, letting it glide over the sensitive skin.
"It wasn't your fault."
"I...You should feel safe with me. You...I should be the last person to hurt you, not after..."
I stop him, bringing my hand up to his face, my thumb gliding over his lips.
"You are nothing like him. And I feel safe. I trust you."
His haze softens, his head leaning into my hand.
"You shouldn't. Not with who I have to become."
"That is for me to decide is it not? And I trust you, Eric Coulter, with my life."
He kisses me again, cold hands gliding over my bare back, settling onto my waist.
"You should take a bath, otherwise you'll catch a cold."
"And what about you?"
"I'll just take a hot shower after, don't worry about me."
He puts some additives into the half-filled tub, foam appears. I grin at the thought of him taking foam baths.
"Well, the tub seems big enough for two", I say quietly.
Eric's gaze snaps to me.
"What was that, initiate?"
I slap his shoulder lightly. But blush at the look in his eyes.
"Nothing. I just wouldn't have taken you for a foam bath kind of guy. Should have guessed with your three different conditioners."
"This hair doesn't come cheaply", he grins, fluffing his blonde hair that begins to curl lightly at the ends. I grin back.
"You sure?", he asks then, turning off the tap.
"As I said. I trust you."
Eric nods, pulls his own shirt off, and throws it into the laundry shute. I just stare. Stare at the toned abdomen, his chest, the tattoos there. Along his ribs surprisingly is a flower, on the other side flames liking along his skin. My fingers trace along them and he lets me, a lazy smirk on his face.
"Like what you see?"
"Do you want me to deny I find you attractive", I question.
"No, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again."
I roll my eyes, and instead of answering him, I look down at my dust-covered socks and mud-covered pants. Slowly I unbutton the black pants, wiggling out of them which is harder than it sounds when everything is clinging to your skin.
"Want some help?", Eric questions amused.
"No, I like feeling like a cold clammy squid on dry land, no worries."
And that actually earns me a laugh. He crouches down and helps me out of my pants, his following down the laundry chute quickly. Now only our underwear is left. The black bra I bought with Marlene and boxer briefs. Suddenly a rush of self-consciousness overcomes me.
"I can turn around?", the man across from me offers and I inwardly melt. The consideration, the respect he offers me every time, despite what he looks like from the outside.
"No...I...it's new, but alright", I mumble, and look at his eyes as I push one strap, then the second off my shoulders. His eyes don't leave mine. My cold fingers fumble for the clasp in the back when he steps forward and does it for me, setting the black garment down carefully.
His eyes flicker down, to the quote tattooed onto my ribs.
Still I rise
Slowly he reaches out, letting his finger glide over the ink, underneath my breast. I turn from him, towards the bathtub and slip out of my underpants, I hear Eric doing the same. Suddenly I feel incredibly warm and flustered. The man behind me wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me up and into the tub with ease, slipping in behind me.
He washes my hair, detangling it, using conditioner and a hair mask, hands firm on my scalp.
I sigh, leaning further into him, his arms closing around my torso, head leaning on my shoulder, pressing occasional kisses to my neck.
After he rinsed out the hair mask I take a breath in and turn around, water sloshing around me, grab the shampoo bottle, and start doing his hair in turn. His hands find my hips below the water. I rinse out his hair, add conditioner, and repeat the process.
The man looks up at me with eyes that make my heart melt, full of adoration and a spark of hope. If I had to guess what love feels like, I would have to guess like this. I lean down and kiss him softly, which he returns just as carefully.
When the water turns cooler Eric steps out first, wrapping a towel around himself and then holding one out for me.
--------
Cuddled into yet another of his hoodies and a hot chocolate in front of me, we sit on the couch, a blanket covering us, his hand gliding up and down my leg.
"Tomorrow, after your final test, just...trust your instincts. And no longer me."
"What?"
"Just remember that, okay, I...I care for you more than I'd like to admit at times and I know you will do something stupid brave, just, be careful, trust in yourself, but do not trust me. I cannot help you. Do you understand?", he asks urgently.
"Okay. I understand", I say softly, and he sighs, "and I care about you too. I will find a way, whatever it is that's coming."
"I am sure you will", he mumbles and kisses me, guiding my wet hair out of my face, "let's go to bed, you need to sleep, as do I."
He picks me up and carries me to bed and the entire night he doesn't let me go once.
YOU ARE READING
Spitfire - Eric Coulter
Fanfiction"Four like the number?" "No like the letter." "Haven't I told you to shut your damn mouth, Stiff?" "You did. And I told you that my name is Tessa." "Have you enjoyed my misery enough yet?", "Well, I believed you'd pass out after four laps, so...no."...
