In the Shadows~zayn au~Completed ✅EDITING

~Chapter 45: Too Much, Too Real~

So this happened. I just sat down and started writing and this came out on the paper and I'm not sure how it happened or why. However, I think it needed to happen because things need to move a bit more quickly in order to allow certain details coming up. Hope you all don't mind ;)

RECAP: "Well, certainly not now," he murmured, his intense stare conflicting with his calm voice.

Abruptly he turned, going to the washstand. He grabbed a rag and moistened it with water from the pitcher.

"There's no mirror in here," he mentioned, "so if you would like your face washed a bit, I'd be happy to oblige."

It seemed a poorly formed excuse to touch her, but she was so surprised by the offer that she simply nodded.

He stepped to her again. "Close your eyes."

She did and felt the rag brush gently across her right eye, from the inner corner out, then the same on the left, reaching out to her cheeks. Next, he wiped across her forehead, down her temples to her chin and finally across her lips.

"There. Since those aren't dirty anymore," he whispered. She opened her eyes just as he leaned in to kiss her.

It was less overwhelming this time as he pulled her in closer against him, less overwhelming and more... enjoyable.

"What about yours?" she asked, pulling away from the kiss and keeping her arms around his neck. "Do you expect me to be kissing your dirty lips?"

He scoffed, but gave her the rag.

"Close your eyes," she mimicked. When he did, she repeated the same motions he had, washing away the road dust, paying extra time to his facial hair which had collected it in particular.

"You should shave," she joked. "Then you wouldn't be so dirty-looking."

"Hardly!" he protested. "I've been told it makes me look handsome and mysterious."

"It's good for a sailor maybe," she allowed, "but not an ambassador."

He didn't answer and she trailed the rag from his face to the side of his neck, washing to where his tattoos started on his chest.

"Is this alright?" she asked, almost ashamed of her timid voice.

He laughed and boasted, "I can control myself, don't worry."

"May I see your tattoos then?" She had been curious about them since she'd first seen them.

"I suppose," he breathed, clearly more affected than he'd let on. "You haven't really seen tattoos before, have you?" He reached up and undid the ties down the front of his shirt and slid the material from his shoulders before laying it carefully on the bed.

She never answered. She simply allowed herself the opportunity for something she'd wanted to do for a while: gaze at him without distraction or worry.

"Sit down." It was an order, but her voice lacked force and it came out as more of a request. Regardless, he did, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned back a bit and she was able to see the black against his skin more clearly.

They were everywhere, winding down his chest and curling over his hips. Whoever had done the tattoos was skilled. The lines followed the natural flow of his body, accentuating muscles in some areas and creating depth in others. There were lines but also pictures of things she didn't understand. She sat on the bed next to him in order to get a closer look at some of the pictures on his arm. There were various sea creatures portrayed that she could identify by sight if not by name, some flowing script, and then designs like rope that formed intricate knots on his shoulder.