I stirred slowly, the soft rhythm of someone breathing beside me gently pulling me from sleep. My lashes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was him—Ciel. His face was calm, peaceful in a way I rarely saw. For a moment, I just stared.
The weight of last night settled into me, warmth and embarrassment flooding my cheeks again. I tried to shift away, quietly, but the movement made me wince.
"Ah—" I gasped softly, my body still sore.
He opened his eyes the instant I moved, as if he'd been awake the whole time.
"Good morning, my love," he said, his voice low and smooth as honey. He smiled down at me with a tenderness that made my heart twist.
"Morning," I murmured, attempting to sit up again, only to let out another soft wince.
Ciel was instantly concerned. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked, brushing my hair back gently, his voice filled with worry.
"I'm okay," I replied weakly, trying to force a small smile.
He didn't seem convinced but said nothing. Instead, he leaned down and kissed my forehead—soft, warm, reassuring.
"Why don't we take a shower and have breakfast together?" he offered, that same sweet smile still on his lips.
"Okay," I said, trying to push myself up again. But before I could even try, he effortlessly lifted me into his arms.
"Ciel!" I yelped, surprised, but he just chuckled.
"Let me take care of you today," he whispered, carrying me toward the bathroom as if I weighed nothing at all.
And for once, I let him.
We entered the bathroom, and steam began to fill the room as Ciel turned on the tap. The warm sound of water running into the tub echoed softly. Then, without a word, he gently placed me into the bath.
"Wait—what are you doing?" I asked, blinking as he slid in behind me.
He smirked. "We're taking a bath together."
My cheeks burned instantly. "Together?!"
He let out a quiet chuckle. "We already slept together, love. Don't tell me you're shy about bathing?"
His words sent last night's memories crashing back into my mind—his lips, his hands, the way he whispered my name. I buried my face in my hands, mortified.
Why did I do that…? What was wrong with me…?
Before I could fall too deep into my thoughts, I felt something soft brushing my back—a sponge.
"What are you doing?" I asked, peeking over my shoulder.
"Just relax," he said gently, his voice close to my ear.
He began to wash my back slowly, carefully. His movements were smooth and tender, the warm water mixing with the gentle pressure of his hands. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn't help but relax into it. It felt good. Comforting. Intimate.
"Are you enjoying this, my love?" he asked sweetly.
"…Yes," I whispered, my voice small.
He smiled and rinsed the lather from my body, taking his time. But then, his hands started to move lower.
"H-Hey! I can wash that part myself!" I stammered, grabbing his wrist with flushed cheeks.
"No need to be shy," he said teasingly. His lips brushed against my shoulder. "I've already memorized every inch of you."
"Ciel…" I gasped as his fingers slid lower, teasing gently.
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "What's wrong, my love? You didn't seem to mind last night…"
His voice sent shivers down my spine—and despite my mind screaming at me to stop, my body had already melted into his touch.
"Stop," I gasped, my voice breathless—but the moan that followed betrayed me as his fingers moved deeper, drawing soft whimpers from my lips.
He leaned closer, voice low and teasing, "Do you really want me to stop?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My mind said yes, but my body… didn't want him to.
Then suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, making me flinch from the sudden absence. He gently turned me around to face him, his eyes dark with amusement.
"Now it's your turn," he said, handing me the sponge.
My fingers trembled slightly as I took it. I hesitated, but slowly began to wash his chest, trying my best not to meet his gaze. His muscles shifted under my touch, and the steam only made the moment more intense.
I rinsed the soap from his skin, cheeks burning the entire time.
"You missed a spot, love," he said in a low voice.
Before I could reply, he caught my hand and gently guided it lower—too low.
My heart slammed against my ribs. My face turned redder than ever.
"You didn't wash down there, love," he whispered with a wicked smirk.
I yelped and shot up from the tub like lightning. "That's enough bathing!" I cried, scrambling to wrap a towel around myself.
I could hear Ciel's laughter echoing from the tub as I fled the bathroom, heart pounding like a drum in my chest.
I quickly grabbed a towel and began drying myself, my heart still racing from what had just happened in the bath. My cheeks were burning, and I couldn't stop thinking about how close we had been—again.
Suddenly, I felt warm arms wrap around me from behind.
"My wife is so cute when she's shy," Ciel whispered playfully into my ear, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.
Before I could even respond, he stepped away with a smirk, pulled on a robe, and walked toward the door.
"See you at breakfast, love," he added over his shoulder, his voice light.
I stayed frozen for a moment, then slowly sat on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in my towel. My thoughts were a whirlwind. What was happening? Why did I let myself get so carried away last night? I buried my face in my hands, groaning inwardly. Why did I let that happen?
But before I could spiral further, something flickered through my mind—a flash. Another memory.
My breath caught.
It was the garden again. The memory was bathed in golden morning light, soft and dreamlike. I saw myself standing among the flowers, smiling… but at who?
I clutched the towel tighter. My heart skipped.
What are these memories? Why do they keep coming?
They weren't dreams. They felt too vivid, too real. The scent of the flowers, the warmth of the sun, the feeling of someone holding my hand…
And the worst part?
I didn't know who was standing beside me in that garden—but something in my heart told me I had once loved them.
Confusion churned in my chest. Were these flashes just remnants of a forgotten past? Or something far deeper—something I was never meant to remember?
"No. No, no, no…" I whispered, shaking my head as I tried to brush the memories from my mind.
I can't do this again. I clenched my fists.
I shouldn't be thinking about mysterious gardens or forgotten feelings right now. I can't let myself get distracted.
I took a shaky breath, grounding myself.
Focus, Clara.You need to escape.
My heart still pounded, but I tried to push everything else aside—the warmth of Ciel's touch, the ache in my chest from those strange memories.
No. I need to remember why I'm here.
And then it hit me.
The keys.
Last night—before everything spiraled—I had seen them. Ciel's keys. He had placed them carelessly on the desk when he thought I was asleep. If I could get to them, maybe… just maybe… I could find a way out of here.
I need to get out. I need answers. I need control again.
My eyes darted toward the door he had just walked through.
I didn't know how much time I had before he came back.
But I had to move—now.