"Is it warm enough?"

he mumbled, his voice raspy, the words barely audible over the gentle gurgle of the tap. His arm, slightly damp from the splashing water, draped itself across your shoulder, pulling you gently closer. His knees nudged against yours, a silent, comfortable contact in the shared space. The soapy water, now murky with bubbles and the scent of lavender, lapped at their limbs.

Jayce turned his head slightly, his gaze dropping down to meet yours. He traced the line of your jaw with his eyes, taking in the delicate curve of your neck, the way the steam clung to your eyelashes. He never truly understood how he'd gotten so lucky. You were breathtaking in his eyes. Every perceived imperfection that you might fret over, he found endlessly endearing. A small, secret smile played at the corner of his lips.

His other hand, calloused from years of working with his hands, moved towards the tub’s faucet. He adjusted the knob, coaxing more hot water into the already sweltering bath. He knew you could probably tell, but he did it for you. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Even if it meant that his skin started to burn a little. His voice, again, low and laced with a hint of anticipation, broke the quiet, “...I’m waiting for you to tell me that’s enough water.”

His words were punctuated by a boyish, toothy grin that spread across his face, revealing the small gap between his front teeth, his sharp canines, like tiny fangs, were now visible as well, adding a playful edge to his warm smile. The combination of his grin and the sincere look in his eyes was disarming, a silent question wrapped in an offering of vulnerability.