Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 53

Marx

The water shuts off, and the world falls into a silence that feels too heavy for the small bathroom. I step out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist.

I can still feel Emersyn's touch, her skin against mine, the softness of her hair under my fingers. She completely shut off after I let go of her.

And hell, I don't blame her. I'm being an asshole. But it isn't meant to hurt her, it's to do the opposite.

But I know that I'm hurting her. I could see it all over her face. I could see it in the way she rushed to wash off and left me standing alone in the shower.

I pad out of the bathroom. Emersyn, asleep in my bed, looks like a peaceful contrast to the storm that's been raging inside me. I didn't expect her to still be in here. I fully expected her to rush to her room.

Her chest rises and falls with a rhythm that's soothing in its regularity. I stand there, just watching her, the moonlight casting a soft glow on her face.

Why does this feel so different? I've never been the type to linger on thoughts of anyone, let alone allow them into my space like this. But here she is, and here I am, feeling things that are as foreign to me as they are unsettling.

I move towards the window, pushing it open slightly. The night air is cool, a contrast to the warmth of the room. I let it wash over me, trying to clear my head, but her presence fills the space, making it impossible.

I can't deny it any longer. Emersyn has gotten under my skin. The thought should scare me, make me want to push her away, but it doesn't. Instead, there's this inexplicable pull towards her, a desire to be around her, to understand her.

I think back to the shower, the way she looked at me, her eyes holding something that looked a lot like care, maybe even affection. It's a look I'm not used to, one that stirs something inside me that I can't quite name.

I shouldn't be in this room, not with her lying in my bed. But the thought of leaving, of putting distance between us, feels like the last thing I want to do.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my gaze fixed on her. My hand hovers over her, the temptation to touch, to reassure myself she's real, is overwhelming. But I refrain, clenching my fist instead. This is uncharted territory for me, and every fiber of my being is on high alert.

What is this pull she has on me? This isn't like me, to be so consumed by someone else, especially someone as complicated and as layered as Emersyn. I've made a life out of keeping things simple, keeping emotions at bay, but she's complicating everything.

I stand up, restless. I pace the room, my mind racing. The rational part of me knows I should step back, maintain the distance I've always kept with others. But there's another part, a part I've kept buried for so long, that wants to break down those walls, to let her in.

It's a dangerous thought, one that threatens the very foundation I've built my life on. I stop pacing, standing still as if that could stop the restlessness of my thoughts. I look back at Emersyn, her face peaceful in sleep, and I realize that no matter how much I want to fight it, she's already made her way in.

I sit back down, my body heavy with fatigue and emotion. I pull back the blanket and notice that she's wearing one of my shirts.

My shirt.

She's wearing my shirt, and that realization makes my heart ache. The image of her in my clothes stirs something primal in me, something I can't put into words.

The bed shifts under my weight, and Emersyn stirs, but doesn't wake. I lie down beside her, pulling the blanket over both of us. Her breathing is steady and quiet, a peaceful sound in the silence of the room.

I close my eyes, the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling me into a calm that I haven't felt in a long time.