Hot steam quickly filled the small bathroom, fogging the mirror and dripping down the stone walls. The air felt heavy, stifling, as if it wanted to envelop her completely. Ester dipped the sponge in the steaming water and ran it over her neck, sliding it down to her stiff shoulders. The tension built up since the forest, since the fight on the road, began to dissolve under the heat.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and simply breathed. The warmth of the water against her skin was a balm. There, surrounded by steam, it was as if she could let her guard down.
But a moment of distraction was all it took for her mind to betray her.
Images came rushing back, like blades slicing through her consciousness: Damon, his body pressed against hers that night, his hot breath against her mouth, the voracious kisses that had taken her breath away. The sharp shiver when he bit her ear, his strong arms enveloping her, as if escape were impossible.
