First Step in the new World

James quickly dried himself off, the heat in his face slowly dissipating as the awkward tension began to ease. He glanced at Ofelia, who was kneeling by the bucket, her back turned to him, busy wringing out the cloth. A pang of guilt tugged at him as he noticed her movements were slower, as though weighed down by fatigue.

He stepped closer, clearing his throat softly. "You know," he began, his voice gentler than before, "you've done a lot to help me today. Let me return the favor."

Ofelia froze mid-motion, her hands gripping the cloth tightly. "W-what?" she stammered, turning her head slightly to glance at him, her emerald eyes wide with uncertainty.

James offered a small, reassuring smile. "You've been taking care of me this whole time. I… I feel a lot better now. So let me help you."

Her heart raced as his words sank in. "I… I can manage," she said quickly, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound composed. "Really."

James shook his head, stepping closer and kneeling beside her. "Ofelia, you're exhausted. I can see it. And after everything you've done, it's only right that I do something for you. Please."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the sincerity in his tone made her hesitate. Her gaze dropped to the damp cloth in her hands, and she bit her lip nervously. Why does he have to be so insistent? she thought, her cheeks already burning. But deep down, she knew he was right. Her arms ached, and the thought of letting someone else take care of her, even for a moment, was oddly tempting.

"Fine," she muttered after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. "But… just my back."

James nodded, his expression softening further. "Just your back," he agreed, taking the cloth from her hands gently.

Ofelia turned her back to him slowly, her entire body tense as she crossed her arms over her chest protectively. She felt vulnerable in a way she couldn't quite describe, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

James dipped the cloth into the soapy water, wringing it out before bringing it to her shoulders. He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of her small, delicate frame. His breath hitched as he noticed faint scars crisscrossing her back, some faded and others more recent. A cold anger bubbled within him, his grip tightening on the cloth. Someone had done this to her—had hurt her in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom.

He forced himself to remain calm, not wanting to alarm her or make her uncomfortable. "Hey," he said softly, his tone calm and reassuring. "It's alright. You can relax."

Ofelia didn't respond, but her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at his words. Taking it as a sign to continue, James began to wash her back, his movements slow and careful. He was hyper-aware of the scars beneath his touch, each one a painful reminder of the life she had endured. He clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to ask her about them. She deserved to be treated like a normal person, not defined by her past.

Ofelia squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning as she tried to will away the strange emotions bubbling inside her. It's just cleaning, she told herself firmly. That's all this is. But the sensation of his hands moving across her back, combined with the warmth of the water and his careful touch, sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to let her reaction show.

"You know," James said after a moment, his voice light but not teasing, "this isn't so bad. I think I'm getting pretty good at this."

"Just don't get carried away," she muttered, her voice sharper than she intended. Her blush deepened as the words left her mouth, and she immediately regretted them.

James chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. "Alright, alright. Just saying," he replied, his tone playful but not overbearing. "You did a good job earlier. I just wanted to return the favor."

Ofelia's grip on her knees tightened as her thoughts spiraled. Why does he have to be so casual about this? she wondered, her heart racing. And why does it make me feel… safe? She bit her lip, refusing to dwell on the question.

James worked in silence for a few more minutes, his hands steady as he cleaned every part of her back with deliberate care. When he finally finished, he wrung out the cloth and sat back slightly, letting out a small breath. "There," he said softly. "All done."

Ofelia nodded stiffly, still too flustered to speak. She stayed where she was, keeping her focus on the bucket of water. Her hands fidgeted slightly as she waited for James to step back.

James smiled gently, standing and moving away to give her some space. "You're welcome," he said simply, his tone devoid of any teasing. Despite the lingering awkwardness, there was a softness in his gaze as he looked at her. "You've done so much for me. It's the least I could do."

As James stood and stretched, feeling a little too satisfied with himself, he glanced at Ofelia, who was still kneeling by the bucket, her back to him. His smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning.

"Well," he began, his voice light but teasing, "we've done the back. Now it's time for the front."

Ofelia froze, her body going rigid as the words sank in. She turned her head slightly, her emerald eyes wide with disbelief and growing panic. "The… front?" she stammered, her voice trembling. "No. Absolutely not. I can handle that myself."

James crossed his arms, his grin softening into something more reassuring. "Ofelia," he said gently, "you've taken care of me all this time, even when I didn't want help. Let me return that trust."

Her face turned scarlet, and she scrambled to her feet, spinning to face him fully. "No!" she blurted out, her voice high-pitched and panicked. "I—You can't! I'll… I'll do it myself!"

But James just laughed softly, shaking his head. "You said the same thing earlier when I tried to clean myself. Remember that? You didn't let me. So why should I let you off the hook now?"

Ofelia's mouth opened and closed several times, unable to form a coherent argument. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding as she tried to think of a way out of this. There's no way. No way I can let him—

Before she could protest further, James raised a hand, his grin turning playful. "Relax," he said, stepping toward the table and picking up the blindfold he had used earlier. "You'll keep your undergarments on, Ofelia. I promise I won't see anything. I'll just put this on you, like you did for me. Problem solved."

Her panic only grew as she took a step back, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest even though she was still fully clothed in her undergarments. "James, you can't be serious!" she said, her voice shaking.

But his teasing smile softened as he stepped closer, holding the blindfold up for her to see. "Oh, I'm completely serious," he said, his tone playful yet warm, his gaze filled with a gentle kindness. "You trusted me enough to blindfold me, and I want to show you that trust goes both ways. You can rely on me, Ofelia."

Ofelia's face burned hotter than ever, and she felt her resolve crumbling under his steady gaze. Why is he so stubborn? she thought, her mind spiraling into chaos. Why can't he just let this go? But deep down, she knew the answer. He wasn't going to let her brush him off, just like she hadn't let him earlier.

Finally, she let out a shaky sigh, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Fine," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But if you do anything stupid—"

"I won't," James cut her off, his smile softening slightly. "I promise."

Her heart skipped a beat at his sincerity, but she quickly shook the thought away, glaring at him as she stepped forward reluctantly. "Just hurry up," she mumbled, her voice laced with both embarrassment and resignation.

James chuckled, stepping closer and gently tying the blindfold over her eyes. As he worked, he couldn't help but notice how small and delicate she looked up close, her flushed cheeks and trembling lips making her seem even more vulnerable than before. But he pushed the thought aside, focusing on tying the knot securely.

"There," he said softly, stepping back. "All set."

Ofelia stood stiffly, her hands gripping the sides of her undergarments tightly as she fought to keep her breathing steady. She couldn't see him now, but she could feel his presence close by, and it sent a fresh wave of nerves coursing through her. Why does this feel so… intense?

James dipped the cloth back into the soapy water, wringing it out before stepping closer. His teasing grin faded slightly as he realized how tense she was, her entire body rigid. "Hey," he said softly, his voice more gentle now. "Relax. I'm not going to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I'll be quick, okay?"

She nodded once, her blush deepening as she bit her lip. "Just… get it over with," she whispered.

With a nod of his own, James began to work, starting carefully at her shoulders and moving downward. His touch was deliberate but light, his focus entirely on cleaning her without crossing any boundaries. Yet even as he kept his movements professional, he couldn't help but notice the softness of her skin beneath the cloth, the way her breathing hitched slightly with each stroke.

Ofelia, meanwhile, was doing everything in her power to keep calm. The blindfold blocked her vision, but it only made her more aware of the sensation of his hands on her. Her body felt hypersensitive, every brush of the cloth against her skin sending a shiver through her. He's just cleaning, she told herself firmly. That's all this is. Nothing more.

But despite her best efforts, her thoughts began to wander. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment—it was overwhelming. And the fact that it was James, someone she was starting to trust in ways she hadn't trusted anyone before, only made it worse. Why does it feel like this? she wondered, her heart racing. Why does it feel like he… cares?

James continued his work, careful to stay within the boundaries they had both silently agreed upon. As he moved lower, he noticed faint scars scattered across the front of her body, similar to those on her back. His heart clenched at the sight, anger and sorrow bubbling beneath the surface. Who could have done this to her? he wondered, forcing himself to maintain a calm demeanor. He clenched his jaw but said nothing, determined not to make her feel uncomfortable. Despite the curiosity and protective instincts rising within him, he resolved to treat her with kindness and dignity—she deserved to feel normal, not judged or pitied.

But as he glanced at her flushed face, her lips parted slightly as she tried to keep her breathing steady, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of… pride. She trusted him enough to let him do this, even though he could tell how embarrassed she was. That trust was something he didn't take lightly.

As James stepped back, the cloth falling from his hands, he found himself pausing, his gaze lingering on Ofelia's face. She stood still, the blindfold still covering her eyes, her hands fidgeting nervously by her sides as though she didn't know what to do with them. Her vulnerability in that moment struck him, and for a brief second, his usual teasing demeanor melted away.

His eyes softened as he took in her features, studying her in a way he hadn't allowed himself to before. Her skin, flushed with embarrassment, was smooth and faintly glistening from the warmth of the water. The way her slender neck curved gently down to her shoulders made her seem so delicate, yet there was strength in the way she held herself—even when flustered.

His gaze moved to her ears, their pointed tips a clear reminder of her elven heritage. They twitched ever so slightly, a subconscious reaction that he found strangely endearing. Her brow furrowed slightly, as though she were caught in a mix of emotions she couldn't quite process. The gentle arch of her eyebrows framed her features, adding an elegance to her expression that took his breath away.

"Your ears are… beautiful," he said quietly, his tone almost reverent.

Her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, the warmth of her blush spreading down to her neck. The soft curve of her nose, small and perfectly proportioned, added a delicate charm to her face. He found himself wondering if it wrinkled when she laughed—a thought that surprised him with its tenderness.

And then his eyes fell to her lips. They were slightly parted, her breathing uneven as though she were still struggling to calm herself. Her lips were full and a deep shade of red, soft and inviting, and he couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like beneath his fingers—or against his own. The thought sent a shiver through him, and he clenched his fists slightly to ground himself.

She's… beautiful, he thought, the realization hitting him harder than he expected. He had always known Ofelia was striking—her elven features gave her a natural grace and beauty that anyone would notice. But now, seeing her like this, vulnerable and trusting, there was something deeper. Something softer. She wasn't just beautiful—she was captivating.

Unable to stop himself, he reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against her cheek. Her skin was warm and impossibly soft, and she flinched slightly at the contact, her blush deepening. "J-James?" she stammered, her voice uncertain.

"Shh," he murmured softly, his voice lower than usual. He let his hand trail gently along her face, his thumb brushing the edge of her cheekbone with a tenderness he didn't know he was capable of. His eyes traced every detail—her trembling lips, the way her breath caught in her throat, the faint quiver of her chin. His thumb lingered on her cheekbone for a moment before brushing down along the curve of her jaw, tracing it gently as though afraid she might break under his touch.

"Ofelia," he said softly, her name barely more than a whisper, his voice carrying an unfamiliar tenderness.

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as his fingers traveled upward again, brushing over the arch of her brow. He couldn't stop himself from noticing the way her features seemed so perfectly balanced—delicate yet strong. His fingers trailed higher, brushing lightly against the pointed tip of one of her ears. The small twitch it gave in response made him smile faintly, though the emotion welling in his chest was far from amusement.

Her beauty was undeniable, but there was something more, something that went beyond her outward appearance. The trust she was showing him in this moment, blindfolded and vulnerable, spoke of a courage that struck him to his core. She wasn't just letting him clean her; she was letting him into a part of herself she kept carefully hidden. The thought made his heart ache in a way he couldn't quite explain.

His hand moved back down, brushing against the soft curve of her nose before settling near the corner of her lips. Her breath was uneven, her lips trembling slightly as his fingers hovered there, not quite touching. He stared at her mouth for a long moment, unable to tear his gaze away. Her lips, so soft and inviting, looked like they were meant to be kissed.

But he held back, clenching his fist and pulling his hand away with a silent curse. Not now. Not like this. The moment felt too fragile, too intimate to risk shattering.

"James…?" she asked again, her voice barely audible, her tone filled with uncertainty and something else—something he couldn't quite place.

"Yes, I'm here," he said softly, his voice steady even as his heart raced. "You're… beautiful, Ofelia. I don't think I've ever told you that."

Her blush deepened, spreading all the way to her ears. "I-I…" She fidgeted, her hands clutching at her sides, her lips pressing together nervously. "Why are you… saying that now?"

He chuckled softly, stepping back to give her some space. "Because it's true," he said simply, his voice filled with a warmth he hadn't intended. "And because… I just thought you should know."

She stood there, still blindfolded, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, thick with unspoken emotions neither of them were ready to face. James watched her for a moment longer, then cleared his throat and took another step back.

"Alright," he said lightly, though his voice wavered slightly. "You can take the blindfold off now."

Ofelia hesitated, her fingers slowly reaching up to untie the cloth. As she pulled it away, her emerald eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light. She turned her gaze to him, her expression a mixture of shyness and confusion.

"What… what just happened?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

James gave her a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Nothing," he said lightly.

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As Ofelia stood there, blindfolded and trembling, she tried to focus on calming her breathing. The sensation of James cleaning her front had left her nerves frayed and her heart pounding wildly in her chest. But then, suddenly, the cloth stopped, and she heard the faint sound of him setting it down. She stiffened, unsure of what he was doing.

And then she felt it—his fingers brushing against her cheek.

Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body freezing at the unexpected touch. His hand was warm, his fingers gentle as they traced the curve of her cheekbone. She couldn't see him, but she could feel his presence, close enough that the warmth of his breath ghosted faintly across her skin.

"James?" she whispered, her voice shaky and uncertain. She didn't understand what he was doing or why, but the tenderness in his touch left her stunned. She wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but her feet wouldn't move. Her body refused to listen to her.

"Shh," he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing. His thumb brushed along her cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver through her. She felt her blush deepen, the heat in her face spreading down her neck.

What is he doing? Why is he touching me like this? Her mind raced with questions, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. The gentleness in his touch, the way he was so careful with her, left her completely disarmed.

His fingers moved upward, tracing the arch of her brow before brushing lightly against her pointed ear. She flinched slightly at the contact, the sensitivity of her ears making her gasp softly. "Your ears are… beautiful," he said quietly, his tone almost reverent.

Beautiful? The word echoed in her mind, making her chest tighten. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. No one had ever looked at her, touched her, as though she were something precious. The thought made her stomach flutter, and she bit her lip, unsure of how to process the emotions flooding her.

He let his fingers trail along the edge of her ear, the sensation sending a strange mix of shivers and warmth coursing through her. She felt vulnerable, completely exposed, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. His touch wasn't intrusive—it was tender, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid of overstepping.

"You're beautiful, Ofelia," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching at his words. "I-I…" She didn't know what to say. Her mind was blank, her usual sharpness dulled by the overwhelming mix of embarrassment, confusion, and something she couldn't name. Why is he saying this? Why does he sound so… sincere?

His fingers moved lower again, brushing along the bridge of her nose before hovering near her lips. She could feel his hesitation, the way his hand lingered there for just a moment too long before pulling away. It left her heart racing, her lips trembling as though they missed the warmth of his touch.

What's happening? she wondered, her thoughts spinning. She'd been touched before, but it had always been cold, cruel, or indifferent. This was different. This was… careful. Almost like he cared.

When he finally stepped back, she let out a shaky breath, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to compose herself. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer than she'd ever heard it. "You can take the blindfold off now."

Ofelia hesitated, her hands trembling as they reached for the cloth. She untied it slowly, the light stinging her eyes as she blinked to adjust. When she looked at James, her emerald eyes were wide with confusion and something else—something more vulnerable.

"What… what was that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She didn't know what she expected him to say, but the look in his eyes, the softness of his expression, made her chest tighten all over again.

James rubbed the back of his neck, his face slightly pink. "I just… wanted you to know," he said simply. "How beautiful you are."

Her breath caught again, and she turned her face away quickly, her hands clenching at her sides. "You're… a dummy," she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

But even as she said it, she couldn't ignore the warmth spreading through her chest or the way her heart raced when she thought about his touch. She hated how vulnerable she felt, but at the same time...

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After James stepped back and handed Ofelia a dry cloth, allowing her to finish her toilette, he let out a heavy sigh. Without bothering to put his clothes back on, he climbed onto the bed, the towel around his waist still loosely secured. He flopped onto his back, one arm resting above his head, his eyes half-lidded. His expression was unreadable, but a faint upward twitch of his lips suggested he was simply too exhausted to care.

Ofelia stood there for a moment, clutching the dry cloth in her hands. Her emerald eyes lingered on him, her thoughts swirling as she tried to process everything that had just happened. What is he doing now? she wondered, biting her lip nervously. He looked so relaxed—so comfortable in her presence—and it only made her more aware of the awkward tension still bubbling inside her.

She shook her head quickly, trying to push those thoughts aside. Turning her back to him, she finished cleaning herself and began to dry off, her movements quick and efficient. The faint dampness on her skin clung to her undergarments, but she ignored it, focusing on completing the task. The thought of putting her still-damp clothes back on didn't appeal to her, and part of her wondered if James even noticed—or cared—that she remained standing there in her undergarments.

When she turned back to the bed, she hesitated. James hadn't moved, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he stared at the ceiling. The sight of him, so calm and unguarded, sent a strange warmth through her chest. He looks so… peaceful, she thought, her blush returning faintly.

Gathering her courage, she stepped toward the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She hesitated again, standing at the edge for a moment before carefully climbing onto the mattress. The faint creak of the bed frame made her stomach twist with nerves, but James didn't react—his eyes didn't even flicker in her direction.

Slowly, she settled herself beside him, lying down and pressing her side gently against his. Her movements were tentative, her heart racing as she wondered if he would say something, tease her, or pull away. But he stayed still, his warmth radiating through the thin barrier of her undergarments.

Taking a shaky breath, Ofelia reached out, lifting one of his hands and placing it gently against her. His hand was large and warm, and the contact made her chest tighten. She wrapped her own arm around his, holding it against her as though she needed the reassurance of his presence. Her other arm slipped around his opposite arm, hugging it tightly as she nestled herself closer to him.

She could feel his heartbeat through the closeness, steady and strong, and it brought her an odd sense of comfort. Resting her cheek lightly against his chest, she closed her eyes, her breathing finally beginning to steady. Why does this feel so… safe? she wondered, her thoughts quieting as the warmth of his body surrounded her.

James finally stirred, tilting his head slightly to glance down at her. His lips curved into a faint, almost sleepy smile as he let his free arm wrap loosely around her. "Comfortable?" he asked softly, his voice low and warm.

Ofelia didn't look up, her blush deepening as she mumbled against his chest, "Mmhmm."

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Good," he murmured, his own eyes slipping closed. "You deserve it."

The words sent a flutter through her heart, and she hugged his arm tighter, burying her face against him. For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself relax completely, melting into his warmth. And as they lay there together, the tension and awkwardness from earlier seemed to fade, replaced by a quiet, unspoken connection that neither of them wanted to let go.