Being met with the immaculate view of the night sky as she stepped into the lobby, she would have dropped everything and sprawled out on the floor to look at the stars. Instead, she continued onward to the second floor.
"Jamie, slow down," he panted as he jogged up the steps to catch up.
Jamie peered over her shoulder, watching him sprint in the four inch heels. How he did it was something she'd never understand.
"What's the rush?" Jamie shook her head. "You haven't spoken since I picked you up and don't think I haven't taken in that bag."
Jamie glanced down at the stuffed duffle. "I'm just tired," she sighed. "That's all. I just want to take a bath and go to bed."
"Well," he began, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'll join you...in the bath."
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With her back against the lip of the large tub, she buried herself beneath the remaining bubbles. "I don't understand why you're sitting all the way over there. I mean, we just bathe each other."
"I feel like that and this is teasing you enough, P."
"Is that why you added so much soap? To cover up?" Prince shook his head with a chuckle as she shrugged. "Well, it isn't," he answered, wrapping his hands around her calf, massaging them slowly. "If it were, you would know."
Jamie sighed at his touch, his hands working their way down to her feet. "Wanna tell me what's on your mind, mama?"
"Nothing."
"I don't believe you," he replied, rolling the ball of her foot in his palm before switching to the other one.
"Then don't," she shrugged.
"Wanna know why I don't believe you?" He quizzed, bringing her foot down into the water. "You do this thing, well a few things actually, when you're bothered or thinking a little too hard."
Jamie sat quietly waiting to hear what he was referring to.
"You bite your lip a lot. Your bottom lip. On the inside. Then sometimes you stare at little things. Kinda like how you've been staring at the candle there," he nodded towards the candle sitting on the sink. "But you wanna know what really lets me know something's wrong?"
Prince sat up from the other side of the bath. He leaned forward, close enough to separate her hands that lay submerged in the water. "You fidget."
"I do not."
"You've been toying with your fingers since I picked you up," he retorted. "Now, tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry about it."
"I doubt you can handle it. You're here and with a big ol' bag of clothes. How long were you planning on staying with me?"
"Until you tell me to go home."
He hummed softly, still holding on to her pruning hands. "You can stay for as long as you want, under one condition."
"What's that?"
"Tell me what's going on," he chimed.
