Ivan.
"Ivan."
"Ivan."
Her voice was soft, but it cut through the warm steam like a blade.
He didn't answer. He didn't even blink. His eyes were fixed on her — as if the rest of his body had forgotten it could move, as if every muscle had surrendered to the sight before him.
The water slid down her skin in slow, heavy drops, clinging to her as if the world outside the tub wasn't worthy of touching her. The steam curled around her body, making her edges blur, as though she wasn't fully real — just a dream, too fragile to reach for. Her wet blonde hair clung to her face, her neck, her shoulders, then tumbled down in damp waves to her waist.
