Elias stayed seated on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, listening to the water cut off with a sharp twist of metal.
Silence followed, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the low creak of a hinge as the bathroom door swung open.
Steam curled out first, soft and warm, ghosting across the cooler air of the suite. Then Victor stepped through, a towel draped low at his hips and another slung carelessly around his neck as he scrubbed the damp from his dark hair. Droplets traced down the line of his shoulders, catching in the muted morning light, running over pale skin marked faintly by those strange ether‑etched channels Elias had seen flare before.
Victor paused when he saw him awake. One dark brow lifted, crimson eyes flicking from Elias's face to the way he sat, rumpled, bare feet on the floor, expression still caught between sleep and thought.
