At that time, he shook off the remaining water on his hands. The reaction this time was much gentler than last time.
Perhaps water itself is not what he hates so much?
I tried again, this time splashing water on his chest. The wet white robe hugged his body. The folds of fabric on the shirt became more obvious, revealing the skin underneath.
Only when I saw drops of water rolling from my left chest to my right cleavage did I suddenly wake up.
Oh my god. I felt like I was doing something so wrong that I had to quickly look away. Heart pounding, cheeks hot.
Nhìn lại, dạy hắn cách tắm rửa đồng nghĩa với việc tôi phải để hắn nhìn thấy cơ thể trần truồng, không mảnh vải che chắn.
“What now…”
I was too subjective. Is there a way to teach him to bathe without exposing his naked body?
"Lace?"
As I stood there, dazed, he approached and grabbed my lapels.
At that moment, the cloak came off, exposing my shoulders. The fabric underneath only barely covers it, revealing a very delicate position.
I tried to hold back my scream, eyes glued to the ceiling. With a trembling voice, I said:
“Cesar, absolutely don't take off your shirt, okay?”
"Impossible?"
Yes, this is an extremely important issue for my bathing journey with him. I don't know whether he understood or not.
I turned my gaze back, used my hand to adjust his lapel, trying to keep it neat.
"Do you understand? You must hold it tightly with your hand, absolutely do not release it."
"YES."
The answer is quite good, but I still repeated it a few times because I was nervous:
“Hold on tight, okay?”
"YES."
A problem has been solved, but the future remains unclear. I don't know what to do next.
Last time, while eating, I showed him first. He only ate after observing how I did it.
So is bathing similar? If I shower first and let him watch, maybe he will follow suit.
“But… that's a bit…”
Showing others how to wash your body is really embarrassing.
But looking at his clear eyes, staring intently at me, I couldn't turn away.
“I don't know either.”
I mustered up all my courage and started getting into the bathtub to model. All this, of course, is justified by me:
“It's all for education.”
I can't shower with my coat on. I touched the bow tie on my chest to take off my cloak.
Immediately, feeling his overly curious eyes.
Of course, there was no other intention, but that look kept following my hand, making me shy. I coughed a few times and gently reminded:
“Turn your back for a bit.”
He listened, nodded and turned around.
The sound of fabric falling to the floor and the clatter of thin wet socks being removed.
“Um… we can go back now.”
He immediately turned towards me.
It's been a long time since I showed my bare feet to someone. After a serious injury, my leg was deformed, red, bruised and distorted.
I always hide them, afraid of being laughed at. Not because of illness, but because of an accident.
The accident happened not long after I was brought back to the Flores villa. Celestina – my stepmother – and my half-sisters often abused me.
Only Gasparo, my biological father, was related and sometimes stood up to protect me, but he mostly only appeared at weekend parties and didn't care about my daily life.
One day, Giovineta Flores - the eldest daughter - pushed me down heavily. I fell down the stairs and seriously injured my ankle. No one in my family takes responsibility, everyone blames my carelessness. As a result, I have a lifelong limp.
No one was punished. Pain, abuse, and my father's indifference – I don't know which pain is the greatest.
Every night, I lay in the dark attic, my pillow damp with tears, wondering: "What did you bring me here for, if I was only treated like this?"
I have to be tough to protect myself. The hard outer shell hides the soft inside. But sometimes, the wound still creeps in, causing me pain.
Looking down at your legs, you feel more embarrassed than just wearing a thin shirt. I was afraid that he would also find me disgusting and dirty. Cheeks heated up from both embarrassment and the heat of the bathroom.
He didn't seem to notice my worries, just lowered his head to look at the pile of clothes I had taken off.
“Don't smell that smell.”
I waved my hand to stop him, but luckily he turned his attention to something else. It's impossible to take your eyes off him.
“Look, can I get in the tub?”
I carefully lifted my skirt and dipped my legs into the warm water. The hot water is so soothing, especially for my aching ankles. A soft moan escaped.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, I lifted my feet and stirred the water, seeing it drift around. He looked intently, I laughed.
I scooped water and threw it on him. No harm done.
His prediction was correct, he became interested. I took a bottle of essential oils from the basket next to the sink, opening it to a faint herbal scent. Put a few drops on the surface of the water and the fragrance spreads. He bent his nose to smell the water, his eyes red.
“How?”
He was still standing outside, just smelling and looking at the water, not yet getting into the tub.
I slowly lowered myself completely into the tub. Water spilled out and spilled onto the floor. He stepped back a bit, looking very interesting. I playfully splashed more water, this time in his face.
Water splashed up, his red eyes sparkled with confusion. I smirked, feeling touched, then pulled his hand:
“Come here and see.”
He followed gently, the tub water overflowed.