NovelEnglish“I'll go shower first, then,” Sylvia said. After a full day of hiking, she felt sticky and was eager to wash up.
Gabriel started toward his own room.
Sylvia took two steps, then turned back. “Your wound can’t get wet.”
He turned, a look of indifference on his face. “How am | supposed to shower without getting it wet?”
“You could wrap it,” she suggested.
“It's fine.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtWith that, he walked away.
Sylvia stood there, her chest tight with frustration. She wanted to let it go, to not care, but she couldn't stop herself from walking
toward his room.
She pushed the door open to find him pulling off his t-shirt, his toned upper body exposed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she
quickly looked away.
Gabriel glanced back and saw her but acted as if she wasn’t there, grabbing a change of clothes from the closet and heading for
the bathroom.
Sylvia followed him in and saw him start to unfasten his pants. “Don’t!” she blurted out.
He turned, his gaze intense. “You're conflicted, aren't you?” he said slowly. “Torn. Do you even know what you're doing right now?”
Sylvia stared at him, her eyes misting over.
After a few seconds, she turned and walked out.
A heavy weight settled in Gabriel's chest. A full day of hiking, of carrying her for miles—none of it had tired him. But in this
moment, it felt as if all his strength had been drained away.
Suddenly, the door opened again. Sylvia cback in carrying a stool.
“Sit,” she said flatly.
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