Page 52 of Ashes and Lilies
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Julian escortedme upstairs after we arrived back at Damen’s house, grabbed something from Miles’s bedroom, and led me to a bathroom I hadn’t seen before.
“Here you go, darling,” he said, handing me a little tan sachet. “Why don’t you take a bath before the others get back? It’ll help you feel better, and then I can properly clean up the cuts on your hands and legs.”
I peeked in the bathroom. It was as large as a bedroom, designed with a dark undertone, and was complete with a wardrobe/linen closet, double sink, a wicker chair, and a deep tub under a stained-glass window on the opposite end. Despite Damen’s choice of outdoor decor and the exterior disrepair, it was a fact that his interior design skills were on point.
Still, though…
I warily stepped into the room as Julian passed me and turned on the water. Then he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a towel. I hesitantly reached for it, wishing I could thank him, but my focus was pulled in multiple directions.
The last time I was in a similar position, it hadn’t ended well for me.
“O-okay…” My mouth went dry as I looked around in the large space. I doubted the ghost that’d hurt me before could get me here, but still…
“Bianca?” Julian paused, the folded towel still in his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s fine,” I said, grabbing my sleeve and looking toward the ornate mirror. He stepped closer to me, and I added, “I won’t take long.”
“Hey…” He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I breathed in, trying to control my crumbling nerves. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Ye...” I began but then stopped and bit my lip. My heart was pounding as my chest grew tight. “No.”
He waited, and I shook my head and clenched my fists against my thighs. “I was scared earlier,” I told him, and the lights glittered as my vision wavered. “I thought—I thought I’d be taken away and might not ever see anyone again. That—that I’d get hurt.”
“Bianca—” Julian began, but I kept going.
Once the confession fully slipped from me, I could no longer hold back. “I-I don’t like getting hurt,” I said, wiping my eyes with my wrists. It was a stupid thing to say—no one liked getting hurt—but I could think of no other way to explain. “I’m—I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight because I’ll have a dream about it. I don’t—I don’t want to be alone.”
I was suddenly pulled against him, my face pressed against his chest.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he told me, and I could feel his steady breathing under my cheek. Even so, his hold was firm, assured, as he ran his hands down my arms.
But… he didn’t understand.
Still, his voice and demeanor reassured me, making it easier to breathe. I raised my hands and gripped his shirt at his sides. I wasn’t sure I believed him entirely yet, but his confidence was contagious. “O-okay,” I said again.
“How about I stay with you?” Julian asked. He stepped back, hands holding mine as the towel fell to the ground between us. “Would it make you feel better to have me nearby?”
I glanced between the tub and the seemingly long distance to the door. It was stupid, but “M-maybe. But…”
“But what?” Julian asked, rubbing his thumb in a circle over my wrist.
“I’d be naked,” I told him.
“I know,” he said, his face darkening. His gaze turned from mine, and he stared at some point over my shoulder. And when he spoke, his voice was a pitch lower than usual. “People are naked while bathing. I’m trying not to think about that. But I won’t look.”
I bit my lip and glanced back toward the tub. Strangely enough, having him stay would make me feel better. Plus, it wouldn’t be nearly so lonely. The last thing I needed was to fall asleep in the bath again. “If—if you don’t mind….”
“I don’t mind,” Julian said, returning my attention to him. His expression had turned into something serious as he added, “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable and safe. Then, I can also check that you’re not hurt—I know you’re in more pain than you’ve let on.”
Julian was more sensitive to my physical ailments than the others, plus he had a way of noticing things that others didn’t. Perhaps this was why he decided to become a doctor. Or maybe… He seemed upset about his abilities, which I was not sure what they entailed.
Perhaps they were related.
Either way, I wasn’t used to this level of attention, and I felt guilty about downplaying his concerns earlier.
“I’m sorry…” I told him. “I’m not trying to hide it.” I wasn’t—this was nothing. And this sort of thing never had been worth talking about before.
