L̸͟͞o̸͟͞c̸͟͞k̸͟͞e̸͟͞d̸͟͞ A̸͟͞w̸͟͞a̸͟͞y̸͟͞❀

Chapter 34

                     ༺ꉣꋬ꓄꒐ꏂꋊꉔꏂ༻

Richard filled the tub for Amy and then called her over. When she arrived, he told her to undress. Amy felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. In her childhood, she had been at ease bathing in front of him, but that was a long time ago. It had been three years since they last saw each other, and she was no longer the little girl she once was.

As she stood there, the warm steam from the tub curled around her, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt both comforting and disconcerting. Memories flooded her mind—sunlit afternoons spent splashing in the water, laughter echoing off the bathroom walls, the innocent trust she had in him. But now, those memories felt like a distant echo, overshadowed by the weight of her newfound self-awareness.

Amy hesitated, her fingers nervously fidgeting with her fingers. She could feel Richard's gaze on her, a mixture of expectation and something else—something deeper that made her heart race. The innocence of their past was replaced by an unspoken tension that hung in the air, thick and palpable. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.

"Richard, I can wash by myself," she murmured quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Huh? We used to do this together all the time," he replied, a hint of confusion in his eyes, as if he were trying to reconcile the little girl he once knew with the young woman standing before him now.

"Yes, but I was much younger then. I'm 12 now; I can do it on my own," she insisted, her tone firm yet gentle, as she turned her gaze to the water swirling in the bathtub. The memories of their shared moments flooded her mind—laughter, splashes, and the carefree days of childhood that felt like a lifetime ago.

His face shifted for a moment, a flicker of something passing through his expression before he returned to his usual demeanor, the protective friend she had always known.

"Alright, I won't push you to get used to me being back in your life," he said, his voice softening as he moved toward the door. There was a weight in his words, a recognition of the changes that had taken place, not just in her but in their relationship as well. "Your clothes are on the bed, and please, just call if you need anything," he added, his concern evident even as he stepped back into the hallway.

As he closed the door behind him, she felt a rush of solitude envelop her. The quiet of the bathroom was both comforting and isolating. She took a deep breath, letting the warm steam rise around her, and focused on the task at hand. The familiar way of washing her body brought a sense of calm, a grounding moment in the midst of the changes swirling around her.

She emerged from the bath wrapped in a towel and headed to their room to get ready. The air was still warm from the steam, and the faint scent of lavender lingered on her skin. On the bed was one of Richard's shirts, a soft, well-worn fabric that smelled faintly of his cologne, and nothing else, so she decided to grab a pair of shorts that Angelina had given her to wear with it. After applying lotion to her skin, she let the towel fall away completely, feeling the cool air brush against her damp skin. She slipped on his shirt, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting embrace, the sleeves falling just past her wrists. It was oversized, the hem grazing the tops of her thighs, and she loved the way it made her feel—both cozy and a little daring.

What she didn't know, Richard had left the door ajar, just enough to peek in and watch her delightful antics. He leaned against the doorframe, a soft smile spreading across his face as he took in the sight of her. The way she danced in front of the mirror, her laughter echoing softly in the room, filled him with warmth. He admired how she transformed something so simple into a moment of joy, her spirit radiating like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

As she continued to experiment with her look, Richard felt a pang of affection swell in his chest. He loved how she could find happiness in the simplest of things, how her imagination turned an ordinary shirt into a whimsical dress. He wanted to step inside the room, to join her in this playful moment, but he hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her blissful reverie. Instead, he remained a silent observer, cherishing the sight of her unguarded happiness, knowing that this was a side of her that he adored most.

He understood that she wanted her privacy, and he certainly didn't want to intrude on her while she was undressing, as that would only intensify his feelings for her. The thought of being a silent observer, respecting her boundaries, felt like the right thing to do. He simply wanted to step outside the room, away from the door, to give her the privacy she needed. However, when he heard her laughter—light and carefree, like a melody that danced through the air—curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself peeking through the small opening.

What he saw took his breath away. There she was, twirling in front of the mirror, wearing his shirt, which suited her perfectly. The fabric hung loosely on her frame, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and the hem brushing just above her thighs. It was a sight that made his heart race, a blend of innocence and allure that was both captivating and disarming.

As she spun, her laughter filled the room, a sound so pure and joyful that it wrapped around him like a warm embrace. He felt a pang of longing, a desire to be part of that moment, to share in her joy. But what truly took him by surprise was the sight of her lovely legs as she lifted them to slip into her shorts. They looked smooth and delicate, a testament to her youth and vitality. He couldn't help but envision how those legs might one day wrap around him when she's older, a thought that sent a rush of warmth through him, mingled with a hint of lust.

For now, he knew he had to be patient. The innocence of this moment was precious, and he didn't want to rush anything. He reminded himself that she was still growing, still discovering who she was, and he wanted to be there for her, to support her as she blossomed into the person she was meant to be. He took a step back from the door, allowing her the space she craved, but not without stealing one last glance.