Then, she looked at him and said, word by word, "I'll do it myself."
After their gazes met for a moment, Timothy York gave a slight nod. "Alright."
He didn't linger. He walked out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
Summer Thorne, however, remained frozen in place. It wasn't until steam filled the entire shower that she finally slipped out of her bathrobe. She stepped back under the spray, tilting her face up to let the hot water cascade over her, letting herself slowly suffocate in this cleansing ritual...
...
A long time later, Summer Thorne finally emerged from the bathroom.
Timothy York was sitting on the balcony of her room, flipping through a book.
Hearing the sound, he looked up at Summer Thorne as she opened the door and came out. Seeing that her hair was already dry, he seemed pleased and held out his hand to her.
The armchair was wide, easily able to accommodate two people.
Summer Thorne walked over, and he pulled her into his lap.
