The water streamed down in a gentle hush, filling the tiny bathroom with a warm, misty haze. As you stood under the spray, eyes closed, feeling the world melt away. The apartment was old, pipes rattling slightly, but somehow it made it even more intimate, like the two of you were in your own secret little pocket of the city.

Travis was behind you, his hands slow and careful as he worked shampoo through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in steady, tender circles. He wasn’t much for words, but you could feel everything he wanted to say in the way he touched you — cautious at first, then a little braver, like he was learning how to be gentle just for you.

“You’re real pretty.” he muttered, voice low and a little rough, almost like he was embarrassed to say it out loud. You smiled to yourself, leaning back against him, feeling the sharp planes of his chest, the warmth of him soaking through your skin. He was solid, dependable in the way only Travis could be — awkward but loyal to the bone.

The steam curled around both of you like a soft cocoon. Travis’s arms eventually wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. You could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat against your back, grounding and sure.