Chapter 08
"Ophelia and I had breakfast together - well...I had tea and her and I spoke. It was nice." Groaning softly as she began to sit up a little more, her entire body feeling tender. "Perhaps we should actually wash up now..." Smiling over at him, she paused a moment, then scooted towards him until she could place a soft, tender kiss on his lips. "The refresher is slowly becoming one of my favorite places on this ship...and I'm finding it just a little odd." An easy laugh was given as she lifted herself up off the floor, slowly, letting the hot water pelt her tired body and soothe her completely.
"Mmm...does that mean I have to get up?" He shook his head. "I don't know if I am ready for that kind of exertion. Usually I have time to...prepare and build my composure...but, right out of bed...I am easily spent." He closed his eyes and groaned, smiling. "But I am glad that the refresher is becoming your favorite place."
He grinned wickedly. "That means I'll never have to worry about smelling your p-" He caught himself...sorta, and cleared his throat, blushing a little. "I...I mean...you'll always smell...fresh-nice-clean...I mean. I mean, not that you'd ever smell-" He smiled sheepishly, turning a little red in the cheeks, and decided to stop talking...it was her turn.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" She whirled around to look at him, both eyebrows raised as she stared at him. Taking a step towards him, she reached out with her foot and gave him a little kick with it. "Come on, say it. Do you have a problem with the way I smell? Because I have never gotten a complaint about my smell...ever. And I mean, if you're complaining...we don't have to do...this anymore." She motioned with a hand, indicating the both of them, then placed both hands on her hips still watching him, waiting for an answer.
He felt the color drain from his face. He probably looked like he was not only dead, but had in fact been dead for a long time. "I-I...n-no...I mean...of-of course...not. I...I was just...it..." He continued to move his mouth, but it seemed like his brain had burned out, and speaking clear, audible syllables was becoming increasingly difficult. He moved to stand, his brain whirling and he could feel how dizzy the panic was making him. "I didn't...mean...anything...I just...joke...it was...a...bad...bad."
Instead of reassuring him like she usually did, she let him blubber on, staring at him amused. Nodding a few times, she let his voice trail off, and then let a silence hang between them. Giving him a look, she turned her back to him, pressing at the soap dispenser and began to scrub it into her hair. "We won't always be in the refresher, if you have problem, guess you'll just have to hold your breath." Tsking softly, she shook her head to emphasize her disappointment as she finished scrubbing her hair, and began to rinse the suds out.
He just stood there, watching, gaping, no more certain how to respond than he was certain how to divide by zero. His mouth kept moving like he wanted to say something, quite desperately, but he seemed to be having a lot of trouble putting the words together correctly. He tried to remember what it was he had even said. He kept reviewing all the things she'd said to him, trying to decide if he had, in fact, said anything like that, desperate to determine how the conversation had ended up where it had.
Not hearing him speak, she made a face and finally, turned back around to face him. "Is it just me you have trouble arguing with, or all women?" Slowly a smile crossed her face as it became more and more apparent she had been joking with him. Letting out a soft chuckle, she reached up to place a hand on his face. "I flustered you, I'm sorry. I was only joking. You took me much too seriously I think. Come here..." Gently, she turned his back to her as she grabbed more soap and began to wash his back gently.
He felt the color flooding his face again as he avoided eye contact with her. He let her turn him around and sighed, relaxing a little when he felt her soft hands and realized that she was simply giving him a double doze of his own medicine. "I...am quite capable of arguing with...pretty much anyone...unless..." He cleared his throat. "Well, I mean...unless I know they're right..." He shifted uneasily. "...Or...in your case...if I think it the...discussion...might end up with me sleeping alone again..."
"So then the answer to my question was...'just me.'" Shaking her head, she continued to rub his back, working her fingertips into his muscles, giving him a gentle massage as she cleaned him off. She had very strong hands, a workers hands. Not calloused, but her fingers moved with certainty. It was why she enjoyed making jewelry. It kept her hands busy, and she had a knack for the minute details it required. Backing away from him, she pulled him under the water so she could rinse off. "And Idris...I don't know if I could ever stand you sleeping alone again. Because that would mean I'd have to be without you. Not a pleasant thought."
He rolled his eyes. Yes, he had given her a long answer...again. He let her guide him, and melted a little with the massage, his eyes rolling a little as he felt her fingers. He smiled at her last statement and helped her rinse him off. He then turned around to look at her, smiling. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. Warmed by the feeling of his lips on her forehead, she smiled up at him, shrugging her shoulders.
"Thank you. I'm sorry that I tried to make a comment that a teenager might make. It wasn't very mature of me." He smiled weakly and pulled her into an embrace. "And...for the record...you always smell fantastic...and...taste fantastic too."
"I'm sorry I give you such a hard time." Allowing him to embrace her, she leaned into him immediately, her cheek resting on his wet chest. "And for the record...you do as well."
He grinned at her, a wicked smile that took up his face as he guided her back to him and started to feel her skin. He rubbed water all over her back and then allowed some of the soap to end up in his hands, giving her a good lather. He was not skilled at massage therapy or particularly good with his hands, but he did his best to reciprocate. Laughing as she was turned again, his hands working over her own back now. Perhaps he wasn't skilled with his hands or massages but a massage was a massage and she enjoyed it, groaning softly a few times. He smiled as he listened and rewarded her when she groaned. He guided her back under the water and washed her off, then grabbed the soap and began to clean the rest of his body. As he washed her off, she grabbed a little bit more soap to clean the rest of her then moved to step out before him.
