Sink With Me

Leaning my shoulder to the door frame I slowly work off the buttons of my shirt while Cordelia groans and pulls her clothes from her skin. She ruined me long ago—tilted my world on its axis, and I’m proud to say I successfully did the same to her.

“You’re being a stalker.”

I laugh, dropping my shirt from my shoulders, standing to my full height, and working on my belt.

“Just enjoying the view, love.”

The curtain closes, breaking her form from my line of sight, the steam bellows flow over the top lip, fogging the mirror and sticking to my skin. I carelessly kick my clothes to the side because I still need to be close to her and know she’s still here, breathing the same air as me. Stepping in behind, I allow the water to stay on her body. Each wet bead trails down her skin, discoloring from the blood and grime until it swirls into the drain.

“Stop acting so tough for a bit. You’re not a soldier here.” I murmur, I’ll always adore the fire she holds, but I also need her to know sometimes it’s okay to be human. Especially when she’s in my hands. She turns her back to me, letting the steady stream wash down her face. My fingers brush against her neck, pushing her hair back until it’s flowing down her spine straighter than the usual waves I’m used to.

“Relax.”

My mouth connects with her shoulder, making her straight stance drop to a slouch. Satisfied with the quiet hum, I spend the next few moments in a healthy silence, helping wash her unruly hair. She leans her head back onto my shoulder with her eyes closed. She’s right, I’m obsessed but I still want to know every little detail that makes her. This time I’ve accepted the fact it’s not for a bigger plot, it is simply because she held me captive long before I ever did her.

“I was excited, and you took the papers from me.” She says carefully, turning her body towards mine. My eyes widen before I relax my features. She’s catching on quickly. I’m glad she’s voicing stuff now instead of potentially committing murder.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I used my other to cup her neck and turn our bodies so the heat of the shower can brush my back while my finger strokes her bandage. It’s not my mark, but it’ll do. I just wish it was caused by my hands instead. I know we will have a rocky road ahead of us, but in the end there’s no one else I’d rather wade through the waters with.

“I’m sorry. I promise you can bury your nose in them later.” I murmur, pressing my lips against her temple. Thank God, I thrive with self-restraint because the way she’s pressed up against me has my mind reeling with all the ways I could push her against the shower wall. She trails her finger over my tattoos, and a chill runs down my spine.

“Get dressed while I finish up.”

“Food.” she groans like a starved animal and pushes off, scurrying out of the shower and hitting her second wind. Calm, cool, collected. I grip the base of my cock and turn the shower to a cooler temperature.

The torture I put myself through for this woman.

Date: 5-17-2024

Time: 1810

Music blares through my Audi A3s speakers, making my head pound enough that I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I’m glad to see Moe and Cordelia have the same taste in music, but they don’t have to have the bass turned up so high it rattles my rearview mirror.

I grin and slam the brakes into the parking space, so Sharkie grips the grab handle with wide eyes and Moe nearly face-plants the backseat. Good, now I can turn down the music. As expected, my little siren refuses for me to open her door and is already jumping out with wobbling legs. A flashing neon ‘Open’ sign hangs crookedly in a large window, cascading blue and red along her face as she draws my attention to her confident steps toward the run-down brick building. I would’ve loved to take her out somewhere nicer, but this is Moe’s favorite.

Rushing to her side, I don’t give her the benefit of opening yet another door by herself. The smell of steak and kidney pie drifts through the opening, visibly making her eyes roll back with her deep inhale.

As we settle in the booth, I take a moment to look around while Moe and Cordelia converse over the difference in American food compared to ours. Families and older couples fill booths and small tables, smiling unaware of the bloodshed that just happened on their land. I find our way of life being kept secret is comforting. Knowing that households get to live in peace instead of panic and allow the ones who are prepared for the unknown to handle the rest.

I steal a glance at Moe across the table. He was shaken up earlier as expected but seems to have calmed since I told him we’d take whatever steps necessary to get him the closure he needs. I know he’ll be haunted for the rest of his life. As badly as I wish I could take it away, I’ll never be able to change the past. My arm rests along the back of the booth, playing with the hair at the back of Sharkie’s head. Maybe we can make this outing a tradition of sorts. Placing my free palm on my chest, I tap my fingers against the buttons, trying to calm my breathing. It’s still very fucking early in our relationship. That’s what I’m calling it. I don’t care what she says. I can’t imagine my life without her in it at this point. That in itself is scary and I’m not scared of much. I’ve never had a label, let alone wanted one.

“Are you even listening?”

I snap my head at my little siren as pitchers are placed in front of us. The rain has let up, but the clouds still loom over the rising moon.

“Hm?”

The table groans under her fist from the pressure she’s putting into the fork wrapped tightly in her palm. I grin. She still wants to kill me, but she won’t. The corner of her mouth tilts mischievously and her eyes soften.

“Hear that Moe? You get to name our new task force.” She purrs. I tug a strand of one of her loose curls. In return, she lifts the fork to point it at my chest.

“Best birthday gift ever.” I feel like my chest is caving in. I forgot. With everything that happened–and with what he’s had to do–the walls feel like they’re closing in around me. The waitress takes our orders, but I stay motionless, unable to force my lungs to expand. I fucking forgot.

Sharkie elbows my rib, forcing my lips to part.

“I’m so sorry, Moe I–”

“Oh, shut it, it’s okay. Imma choose the most badass name.”