Time passed without either of them truly realizing when, exactly, the silence ceased to be merely an interval between words and became… presence. It wasn't empty, nor awkward, nor burdened with urgent expectations—it was simply comfortable, as if that shared space between them had found its own equilibrium, something rare considering who they were and the kind of world they lived in. The steam continued to rise in gentle waves, the sound of the water filling the spaces between breaths, while the constant warmth dissolved any remaining tension that might still exist.
Agnes was no longer rigid.
Her body had completely adjusted to the water, the temperature, the proximity. The towel was still there, but no longer held tightly, simply resting, like a secondary detail in a moment that had ceased to be about defense or embarrassment. Her shoulders were relaxed, her breathing slower, and her gaze… less reactive.
More… present.
