Page 52 of Penance

All I can think of is the way that man had put his hands on me, even when I had screamed at him not to.

Kind of like Draco is doing now.

I wish it had been Draco instead.

The thought slams into my brain so hard that all other thoughts stop, and my eyes pop wide open.

No.

No, no.

“Put me down,” I blurt.

My hands clutch at his shirt, twisting in the cotton. Am I pushing him away or pulling him closer? I can’t tell.

He says nothing, and he doesn’t do what I asked.

I’m stuck, but I don’t fight him.

Because I’m scared to, or because I don’t want to?

The bathroom door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit room made of gleaming tile and chrome. A claw-foot tub sits in the corner, and a low sound grumbles in my throat.

Why didn’t my apartment have one of those?

My breath hitches as he sets me down on the cool edge of the sink, his hands lingering on my waist for a moment too long. I can feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of my shirt.

“Can you stand?” he asks.

I nod.

That’s a lie. My legs feel like jelly, and my spine feels like a noodle.

He steps back, his eyes never leaving mine, as if daring me to crumble. I grip the sink, fighting to keep myself upright.

When he seems content that I’m going to stay where he put me, he turns to the tub, and my breath releases in a whoosh.

Why can’t I breathe when he looks at me?

Water roars to life, and I can see humidity swirling in the air only a few minutes later. I watch as he tests the temperature, his tattoos dancing over a heavily muscled forearm.

“Get in,” he says, stepping aside to give me room.

I hesitate, my breath stuck in my throat.

“I-in… front of you?”

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t pass out and crack your fucking skull on the toilet,” he growls, his eyes narrowed as he glares at me. “Are you trying to say I’m watching you get undressed like a fucking pervert, Mercy?”

I shake my head, slowly, looking over at the gleaming porcelain toilet like it might reach out to grab me if I’m not careful.

Scary toilet.

The thought sends a manic giggle climbing up my throat, and it erupts into the open air before I can bite it back.

Am I losing my mind?

Slowly, I slide off the sink and nearly collapse when my feet hit the tile. I can feel his eyes on me, a realization that sends heat creeping up my neck. I avoid his gaze, focusing instead on the rising water, the swirling steam that promises sanctuary and suffocation all at once.

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