Chapter 264
Meanwhile, Theo's ordinary, worn clothing seemed to struggle to maintain an illusion of normalcy, as if this were nothing more than a routine shower, even though Aldraya's presence and the tension in the air clearly contradicted that illusion.
'This is already halfway through—just endure it, Theo. No matter what happens, don't look at her while she's washing her hair.'
To be honest, the strange and tension-filled shared shower had already reached its midpoint.
Beneath the flow of warm water that muffled sighs and heartbeats alike, this forced ritual continued.
Throughout it all, a fierce battle raged within Theo.
Every drop of water running over Aldraya's skin, soaking her thin T-shirt until it clung tightly and revealed every curve of her slender body, was a direct and undeniable temptation.
The faint silhouette visible beneath the wet fabric, combined with the unavoidable physical closeness in such a narrow space, constantly stirred his primal instincts as a man.
The urge to pounce, to surrender to physical impulse and pin Aldraya's body against the damp bathroom floor, surfaced again and again with alarming intensity.
The desire for intimacy, suppressed since the incidents on the bed, now found momentum in this enclosed, steam-filled space.
Yet at every such moment, Theo stubbornly summoned all the strength of his resolve.
He restrained himself, gripping tightly to control over his own actions.
The muscles in his arms and jaw tensed, not from cold, but from the immense effort required to remain still and not give in to impulse.
One of his primary defense mechanisms was simply closing his eyes.
Again and again, whenever his gaze lingered too long on Aldraya's form beneath the wet fabric, or when her blank stare felt more tempting than any smile could, Theo would squeeze his eyes shut.
He created brief darkness, a black wall to block the visual stimuli that triggered those "dirty thoughts."
"Your navel and back are done. Next, please clean my stomach and back."
When Theo's internal count of eye-closing reached its sixty-fourth time, a voice suddenly cut through his concentration and inner struggle.
The voice was flat, clear, and straight to the point, devoid of emotion.
Aldraya spoke, stating that she had finished cleaning Theo's abdomen—specifically his navel—and his back.
The statement simultaneously marked a shift of roles, a logical instruction for the next step in their shared bathing ritual.
According to the simple logic she followed, since she had cleaned parts of Theo's body, it was now Theo's turn to reciprocate by cleaning her stomach and back.
The instruction jolted Theo out of his turbulent meditation.
The eyes that had just been shut flew open, staring at Aldraya standing so close, water still dripping from her white hair and wet clothes clinging to her form.
Theo's thoughts spun rapidly.
Cleaning Aldraya's stomach and back meant touching her directly, with his hands, through a layer of wet fabric that would feel thin and meaningless.
It was a level of contact far more intimate than merely standing face to face beneath the same stream of water.
With a heaviness akin to lifting stone, Theo's right hand slowly began to rise.
The movement was slow, measured, and filled with hesitation.
Every centimeter closer to Aldraya's body felt like crossing miles.
In his mind, a panicked prayer repeated endlessly like a mantra.
Not a complicated prayer, but a simple and sincere plea.
That all of this would end quickly.
That this trial of patience and self-control would reach its conclusion before he himself reached the limits of his strength.
'Calm down, calm down. This is just cleaning. Just cleaning.
She's a human—or an angel—who needs to be cleaned.
Focus on the task. Don't listen to her sighs. Those are just normal physical reactions.'
"Rub gently… it feels very, very comfortable."
Fhhhhh!
"My skin… my soul… my conscience… all feel so alive when your hand touches me."
The act of scrubbing her body began—a climax of sorts in their paradox-laden shared shower ritual.
Theo's hand, despite all his hesitation, finally pressed against the wet fabric covering Aldraya's stomach.
He moved slowly, with extremely careful pressure, trying to follow the instruction while maintaining emotional distance.
Throughout the process, an encouraging inner monologue spun endlessly in his head.
Theo fought desperately not to sink into wild fantasies that could easily arise from the touch, the moisture, and the closeness.
He tried to focus solely on the act of cleaning, on the texture of the fabric, on anything other than the figure standing before him.
Yet his mental defenses were constantly assaulted by Aldraya's unexpected reactions.
Every few seconds, amid the silence broken only by the sound of water, a soft sigh would slip from Aldraya's lips.
It was not merely an exhalation, but a vocal expression clearly tinged with satisfaction.
Aldraya stated, in flat yet deeply resonant words, that the way Theo was rubbing felt extremely comfortable.
Comfortable in the way it stirred the surface of her supremely supple, elastic, spotless white skin.
And yet, Theo felt that he was only holding and rubbing the requested areas with the most basic and neutral movements he could manage.
Aldraya's erotically tinged responses created a torturous dissonance for Theo.
On one side, his touch was ordinary and cautious.
On the other, the reactions he received were sighs and praise usually associated with far more intimate and passionate contact.
And what made it all worse was that every word and sigh was delivered without the slightest change in Aldraya's expression.
Her face remained flat and empty, like a machine reporting sensory data.
That absence of human reaction made her words feel more innocent, more honest, and because of that, more tempting and more confusing.
"Whoa! Please get off my hand!"
Fiiiih!
"Is there something wrong with my body?"
The hot steam thickening the narrow space suddenly felt sharp like icy needles.
A rough, panicked reflex cut through their strange ritual.
Theo's body jerked backward as if struck by electricity, his steps stumbling and unsteady.
His left hand, which had just made contact with something beneath the tightly clinging wet fabric, flailed wildly through the humid air, as if trying to swat away invisible flames or erase the burning memory of touch.
His expression changed completely; all efforts to maintain neutrality and control shattered in an instant, replaced by pure shock that drained the color from his face.
His eyes widened, staring blankly at the point of contact that now felt like a pit of hell at his fingertips, while his breathing came in short, irregular gasps amid the fog.
Across from him, behind the shifting curtain of steam, Aldraya simply watched the storm of reactions with a calm so stark it felt almost inhuman.
Her face remained a flat canvas devoid of emotion, as if the panic sweeping over Theo were no more than a passing breeze unworthy of notice.
Behind her innocent, empty gaze, a logical question arose, delivered without curiosity or concern.
She looked at Theo's still-trembling hand and his pale face, then quietly scanned her own body.
Was there something wrong with her physical construction?
Did her pristine, flawless white skin possess some horrifying texture after all?
Or was there some other anomaly she was unaware of, capable of provoking such a reaction of horror from the human before her?
Those questions rotated calmly within her clear, cold consciousness, without disturbing in the slightest the steadiness of her posture beneath the running water.
To be continued…