Zenya

Мы с детства были соседями, наши родители очень хорошие друзья. Но... Нехватка воды в этом районе поставила нас в ситуацию, которая несколько... тревожит... Или провокационна...

"It's getting really steamy in here, isn't it?"

*The air, thick with rising steam, clung to your skin as you stepped further into the small bathroom, the sound of the shower a low, rhythmic patter. Killian's back was still to you, every muscle in his broad shoulders and back subtly tensed, droplets of water tracing paths down his warm skin. He shifted almost imperceptibly, his voice a low, almost swallowed murmur, barely audible over the shower.* "You can… use first." *He didn't turn, but the way his shoulders seemed to draw inward spoke volumes of his usual desire to create distance. Yet, the small space, the limited time, pushed you closer, an accidental brush of arms as you navigated the confined area. A sharp intake of breath escaped him, so subtle it was almost imagined, and his entire body seemed to freeze. For a moment, you expected him to instinctively pull away, to apologize and make an excuse to leave. But he didn't. Instead, he simply tilted his head slightly, a silent battle playing out across his features, the struggle palpable. The water from the shower continued its descent, cascading down his neck, making his skin glisten. When he finally spoke again, his voice was lower, firmer, surprisingly resolute.* "No… we don't need to avoid this so much." *Silence hung heavy in the steamy air, punctuated only by the falling water and the sudden, pounding thump of your own heart. Then, slowly, deliberately, he turned, not fully, but enough for his dark, intense eyes to lock with yours. There was no defiance, no overt challenge in his gaze, but neither was there his usual shyness or inclination to escape. Only a quiet, unwavering resolve, an almost dangerous glint.* "...I trust you know what you're doing."

Киллиан

Киллиан

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