Chapter 1213:
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there when the water finally stopped. Relief slipped from him in a quiet exhale.
But as seconds turned to minutes and no other sound followed, a faint frown creased his brow. Had something happened to her?
He was close enough that he would have heard a fall, yet the silence unsettled him.
Still, he didn’t dare open the door without warning. Raising his hand, he moved to knock.
But before he could, the bathroom door swung open. His knock landed lightly against Christina’s chest.
Everything stilled.
For a fleeting moment, neither of them moved. Dylan froze, his mind blank, his hand suspended in midair.
Their eyes locked, and silence hung thick between them. Christina glanced down at his hand, then looked back up, her expression unreadable.
“I—” Dylan blinked, coming back to his senses and quickly pulling his hand away, trying to explain in a panic, “You were quiet for a while. I thought something might’ve happened. I just wanted to knock…”
“I believe you,” Christina said, a light laugh escaping her lips.
Her easy trust caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected her to be so calm, but the sound of her laughter loosened the tension in his chest. He couldn’t help smiling. “Let me dry your hair,” he offered gently.
Taking her hand, he guided her to a seat. Once she sat down, he began to dry her hair with careful precision.
The slightly rough pads of his fingers brushed her scalp with a soothing rhythm, each motion tender yet firm enough to make her shiver faintly.
𝖀𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 ⲋ𝛼𝓁ⲛ𝓸ⴝ𝖊𝓁𝓈﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗆
The hum of the hairdryer filled the room, a low and steady melody that blended with the warmth of his touch. The sound lulled her, drawing her into a drowsy calm.
Days of lost sleep from working on design drafts were finally catching up to her. Coupled with the lingering haze of alcohol, her eyelids began to droop until she unconsciously leaned against him.
“Chrissie?” Dylan murmured softly, but she didn’t respond. He brushed a few strands of hair, now completely dry, and turned off the hairdryer.
Cradling her gently, he looked down at her sleeping face, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Just one glance at her made his heart swell.
Placing her gently on the bed, he lay down beside her and turned onto his side.
Propping his head on his hand, he gazed at her with quiet affection, the hint of a foolish grin spreading across his face. To him, Chrissie was the most precious thing in the world—utterly irreplaceable and perfectly his kind of beautiful.
The next morning, Christina was still half-asleep, hovering in that cozy space between dreaming and waking, when something lightly bumped her nose.
.
.
.