The Recall Trials

My hands trembled slightly as I helped Zaara out of her jumpsuit. She was weak, barely able to lift her arms, and i knew she needed help, but that didn’t stop my pulse from racing. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not now. Not while she was sick and vulnerable. But her skin was so soft and warm from the fever, her body was so delicate.

I unzipped her jumpsuit slowly, keeping my eyes anywhere but on her skin. God, it was hard. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice her body.....of course I did. Her curves,damnnnnnnn.....she was beautiful. So much more than I expected. But this wasn’t about desire. It was about trust. About taking care of her when she couldn’t take care of herself.

I told myself again and again, focus. This isn’t about you. She needs you. Be there for her.

I moved carefully, steadying her with one arm as I turned on the small shower head fixed to the side of the wall.

But as the water ran over her in the small, rusted stall, i gently began to rinse the vomit from her hair. Her head leaned against my chest, her eyes were closed, her breath was slow. Her scent was still there....she still smelled like roses... and a little bit of vomit. I stroked the back of her head, my fingers carefully through untangling her soft dark hair as i washed it. Even drenched, her hair was soft... so soft. Like silk running through my hands.

"You’ve got the softest hair I’ve ever touched," I murmured, mostly to myself.

She looked almost ethereal under the dim light. But then she looked up at me and I didn’t know who moved first. Her sleepy eyes found mine, and before I could stop it, my lips brushed hers.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, swallowing hard.

Every instinct in me screamed for restraint. I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t some guy who would take advantage of a girl just because she trusted me. And God, Zaara trusted me.