“Umm… how do I do it?”

“First remove your jeans and t-shirt and come in. You don’t want them to get wet,” she called.

I was standing outside the bathroom door, still debating whether to enter while my girlfriend was inside.

“What happened? Come fast,” she drew back the curtains in front of the bathtub which was half-filled with water.

“Nothing happened,” I mumbled, gingerly stripping down to my boxers. I realized how awkward it made me feel. Perhaps I was the weaker one in a relationship.
As I entered the room, I could feel the dampness in there.

“Hey,” she appeared from behind the curtain and stopped for a moment, her eyes lingering on my bare body. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips, “I should have known my boyfriend has sculpted Adonis muscles.”

“You don’t know a thing about me,” I chuckled, feeling bolder as I drew her to me. The feeling of having our bare bodies pressed to each other was enough to let loose a train of wild fantasies in my mind.
I suppressed them all, trying to focus on the task at hand. She laid her head on my chest and ruffled the tufts of hair.

“You don’t shave them?” she asked amazed.

“Seems manlier.”
I felt a grin creeping up my face.

“Huh! I don’t like this forest,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll not commit the crime of deforestation until you specially request me to do so.”

“Fine mister werewolf, now help me,” she pointed to a tub of water set near the counter. The full-length mirror near it was fogged from the heat of the water.

“We don’t have a direct geyser connection with the bathtub,” she explained. “So I need you to mix and test the temperature of the water before I step in and get scalded.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I gave a cavalier style salute.
Her laugh rang out, clear like the church bells.

I got busy trying to mix the water. After almost fifteen minutes of trying, I had sweat trickling down the sides of my face, but the water was lukewarm as desired.

“Here,” Phoebe handed me a packet of antiseptic pool salt. “We add two cups of this to half a normal bathtub. Soaps are bad for our skin.”

I dutifully mixed it with the water and asked, “Won’t sodium chloride sting on your wounds?”

“It would,” she replied taking my hand as I helped her get into the tub. “But not as much as soap,” she added quickly.

“Oh,” I remarked, as she dipped herself in shoulder-deep water and then started peeling apart the rest of the bandages that were stuck to the wounds.

“Stubborn bandages,” she murmured, trying to reach those on her thighs.

I tried to help but the moment I touched her thighs, I felt the crackling electricity again. I looked up at her to see her go still.
I couldn’t but help glide my hands across her scarred yet beautiful skin.

But the moment was short-lived as I touched some bad wound and she winced.
We were once again back to dutifully plucking the remaining bandage pieces.
Once it was done, she laid back and sank further into the tub.

I sat there feeling pretty useless.

“Oh! I forgot,” she sprang up suddenly. I gasped as I got a eyeful of her dripping wet bra clinging to her skin.

She dived back before I could react.

“I’m sorry,” she gave a sympathetic smile at my condition.

“Uh…oh...No,” I mumbled before realizing what she had meant to do.

She was fumbling underwater and the water was thicker due to the salts, providing me with a vague idea of what she was doing.

I realized that she was struggling to open her remaining lingerie.

“Umm…I’ll get you a towel,” I turned around, blushing fiercely.

“Yes,” her voice faltered and I could see her nervousness.

I ran out of the bathroom to find a soft pink towel sitting on the bed. I knocked on the door before entering.

“Give me the towel and look away,” she said.

I was going to rush out again when her voice rang out, “Wait, I need help so that I don’t slip. My feet have trouble getting a grip.

I paused dutifully as she emerged and came right up to me, clinging to my back. She was wet and the feeling of her body on my bare back was surreal.

She had her towel tightly knotted to hold it up.

I gently guided her into the bed and made her sit, searching for her dresses.

“Bandages first,” she warned.