The Flames that Engulfed Us

Chapter 11: Finally, a Shower

I still felt filthy. It has to be bad before I admit to poor hygiene. I turned from Lincoln and scurried through the walk-in closet. There were so many clothes. It made my head hurt. Once in the bathroom, I left my clothes in a heaping pile and let out a luxurious groan as the hot water hit my body. It wasn't even brown or anything. It was clean, hot water.

I let it soak my hair and run down my legs. I reached my dripping hand out of the shower for a washcloth, grinning at the way the little hotel soap lathered on the material. I scrubbed at my skin until it turned red. The soot didn't want to come off, but I had time. It eventually lost the fight and my skin was clean again. I hadn't actually gotten any burn marks.

I reached for the hotel shampoo, glad that it seemed to be more feminine. I'd stayed in hotels before where it left me with the sharp male smell, and it would fit if that was what they had. But it wasn't.

I scrubbed my scalp, rubbing my hair furiously. The smoky smell didn't want to come out. I ground the shampoo into it. I would win. Eventually, I was satisfied that it was gone. I quickly applied conditioner and scrambled out from under the water.

Mist spiraled off of me. I took a pristine towel and wrapped it hurriedly around myself. I toweled off my hair and let it hang in tangled knots down my back.

I walked into the closet, staring blankly at the wall of clothing. I went to the end, pulling down what looked like a pajama. Perfect.

Everything that I needed was there, even down to basic toiletries such as deodorant. Oh, deodorant, how I missed you. I picked up a hairbrush, groaning at the bedazzlement on the back of it. It felt hard to hold, the jewel-encrusted handle slipping from my hand.

I walked out of the closet, dressed and brushed my hair. Lincoln had crawled into the bed and got under the covers. His eyes met mine.

"Sky, you look beautiful. No, you look more than beautiful."

I snorted. If unbrushed hair got that good of a reaction, I'd been wasting a whole lot of effort my whole life.

"I'm glad you're with me. Who else would give me so much fluff?"

He chuckled and slid over in the bed, allowing me to crawl in. Except I didn't crawl. I did a sort of roll in. I felt that it went well, but Lincoln was laughing. I loved the way his laugh sounded, but I was a little bit offended he found my extreme gracefulness so funny.

I was still holding the hairbrush, and I landed on it. That hurt. I pulled it out from under me and started brushing my hair. I was still going to waste some effort.

Lincoln wrapped his arm around me. For a moment I almost didn't care that he was still as dirty as I had been before I showered. Almost. I scrunched up my nose.

"I mean this in a loving way, but you need a shower or bath or something."

He chuckled. "I'll get one in the morning. I feel too tired to move much right now. I'm not going to stand up for that long."

Honestly, boys. I wasn't being fair. He did genuinely look tired enough to use that as an excuse. I ran my brush through my hair until my hair was sticking straight. It would curl overnight, but for now, it was dark brown and straight.

"Sky, wake me up if you decide to go exploring."

"I will."

I nuzzled into him, forcing myself to ignore the smokey smell that I'd barely noticed the past couple days. He was asleep in minutes, and I was left to spend the night laying there, listening to his calm breaths.

The night passed, and I grew more and more restless. I pulled away from him, wandering around the room. I softly opened draws, mentally noting their contents and moving on. I could only make an hour pass this way. I moved onto the clothes. I scrutinized every outfit. These pants would look cute with that top. That sort of thing. I picked through the clothes on the other side of the room, the clothes obviously meant for Lincoln. I chuckled at the thought of him staring blankly at this wall. I pulled out jeans and a shirt and hung them on a hook.

He would find them there in the morning. I still paced. I looked back at my clothes and decided I'd try them on. It was just soft jeans and a shirt with a hoodie over it. Nothing special. I grinned. This place seemed to know me. It seemed to know that I loved combat boots. I pulled them on.

Looking out in the hall didn't qualify as dangerous, did it?

No. Probably not. And I could handle myself now.

I quietly cracked open the door. It was only 12:30. I had some time to kill.

I stepped into the hallway and took a deep breath. Why did it feel so foreboding to be here? Would this qualify as what Lincoln wanted me to wake him up for? It was nothing. Just nerves.

What could go wrong?