Lily stepped into the bathroom, still feeling the heaviness of everything that had just happened between them.
Her head ached from the tension, and her right arm throbbed faintly beneath the plaster. She opened the cabinet and placed her clean pajamas on top, glancing at her reflection in the mirror, pale face, tired eyes, hair slightly tangled.
She sighed quietly and reached to pull her t-shirt off, but it wasn’t easy with just one hand. Her left arm struggled to lift the hem, her right arm uselessly hanging by her side. She tried again, gritting her teeth, but the fabric refused to come off properly.
“Damn it,” she muttered, frustrated, tugging harder. The more she tried, the more the pain spread through her shoulder. It was humiliating, standing there half-stuck in her own clothes, but she didn’t want to ask for help especially his help.
And just as she thought of him, the bathroom door creaked open.
She froze. “Are you crazy?” she snapped, spinning around to see David step inside. “Why are you here?”
David didn’t answer right away. His eyes moved over her arm, then to the soaked edge of her plaster where she’d accidentally splashed water earlier. “Don’t forget you can’t wet your plaster,” he said evenly, ignoring her angry tone.
“Let me help you.”
He shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I can do it myself,” Lily shot back instantly, stepping backward. “I don’t need your help.”
Her heart was pounding wildly from both anger and something she didn’t want to name.
Damn this man, she thought bitterly. Why can’t he ever listen? Why can’t he understand when I say no?
But David didn’t stop. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “You’ll hurt your arm if you keep struggling,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t just ignored her.
“David, I said...”
Before she could finish, he reached out and gently but firmly pulled her closer by the waist.
“David!” she gasped, glaring up at him. “You..."
“Shh,” he said softly, his breath brushing her ear. “Don’t be stubborn.”
Her mind went blank for a moment. Stubborn? She wanted to scream.
Who was he calling stubborn, her or himself? Her anger flared, but she bit her tongue, speechless.
David’s fingers brushed against her side as he tugged her t-shirt over her head.
The fabric slipped off easily under his practiced hands. She stood stiffly, eyes fixed on the floor, her face burning.
It wasn’t the first time he had undressed her but those times had been different. In bed, in the heat of intimacy, it hadn’t felt like this. Now it was quiet, careful… almost tender. And that made it feel strange.
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