Steam still lingered in the air as I wrapped myself in a towel and, moving slowly, opened the bathroom door just a few centimeters.

Silence.

I tilted my head slightly, peeking cautiously into the room. The unmade bed was still there, the curtains remained closed, and there was no sign of Navia.

I sighed.

A soft breath—almost relief. Maybe she’d gone to have breakfast, or to prepare the reports for the next phase of the mission.

I stepped out quietly, like a cat in enemy territory, careful with every movement, every sound, every shadow. I walked toward my suitcase, searching for clean clothes.

But just as my shoulders began to relax…

“Did you really think you could escape that easily, Clorinde?”

Her voice—right at my ear.
Her breath brushing my neck.

Before I could react, I felt her arms wrap around me from behind, her warm body pressing into mine, my body being turn, my back gently hitting the wall.

“Na… Navia…”

I tried to protest, but there was no strength in my words.

“Shhh,”
she whispered, with a smile I could feel more than see.
“We didn’t finish what we started this morning, remember?”

“This… isn’t appropriate.”

I mumble as I look away, trying to keep my composure, even if I know it was already shatter.

“And when has it ever been between you and me?”

I felt her lips descend again. My neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. A rain of kisses—soft and burning, like a dangerous promise.

I tried to resist.

I really did.

But my legs faltered when her hands touched me with tenderness, when her low voice whispered things only she dared say to me… and my traitorous body began to respond to every caress, every brush.

“Clorinde…”

She said my name while looking at me with those blue eyes that always trapped me beyond escape.

“Just tell me to stop.”

I looked at her. My face burned. My pride wanted to say yes.

But my heart…

…remained silent.

And in that silence, she understood.

It wasn’t immediate. It was slow, unhurried—like a dance between two people who were no longer pretending. Every kiss grew deeper, every touch more honest. There were no masks, no duty, no mission excuses. Just us. Not even my clothes stand a chance at all, buttom by buttom, my gloves... al fall to her fingers... those damn fingers that in less than what I though would unravell me... the worst part was that I didn't hate it... quite the opposite actually.

Her mouth didn't waste time, as she start to leave hickeys in my neck... in my shoulder, in my collarbone, as if my body was a canvas and she the painter on control. Some times I tried to resist, but it was futile, I lack strenght and my body also didn't cooperate.

I feel my skin burn, all hot, sweaty, my breath shaky, uneven... the sight of how she trace my curves, my hips... I won't be able to take that image out any time soon. I no longer know what to say but it wasn't needed, Navia didn't need words right now, she want action.

The way her hands trace my thighs before her mouth make act of presence was almost too much, tortorious... but enjoyable... damn it all...

When night finally wrapped around us completely, and words became unnecessary, we fell together onto the shared bed, entwined as if we had been born for that moment.

And at some point, after whispering my name one last time, she fell asleep.
I followed soon after, her arm still wrapped around my waist.

For once… I didn’t want to run away.