Chapter 21: [18] Not a Mark
"Calypso."
She turned, silver hair whipping around and sending droplets flying. "What's up, Xavi?"
Her towel shifted dangerously with the movement. Xavier's eyes tracked another water droplet as it slid down her neck, disappearing between the swell of her breasts where the towel began.
"You're getting water all over the floor," he said, gesturing toward the growing puddle.
Calypso glanced down, pink eyes widening as she registered the mess. "Oops! My bad!" She bent slightly, adjusting her grip on the towel. "Here, I'll dry—"
"No need." Xavier cut her off, moving toward the bathroom. "Just sit down and let me get you all dry."
He grabbed a fresh towel from the rack and returned to find Calypso perched on the edge of the couch, legs crossed, towel riding dangerously high on her thighs. Water continued to drip from her hair, tracing glistening paths down her shoulders.
"Here," Xavier said, dropping to one knee before her. He laid the fresh towel across her lap, then lifted one of her feet, placing it on his thigh.
Calypso stiffened. "What are you—"
"Drying you off," Xavier replied, his voice dropping half an octave as he began to pat down her calf with the towel. "Can't have you catching cold on your first day among mortals."
His fingers worked methodically, applying just enough pressure through the soft fabric to make the contact feel like more than mere utility. He traced the curve of her calf, working his way up to her knee, noting how her skin flushed pink under his ministrations.