Fake Date, Real Fate

He returned a moment later, arms packed with soft, folded towels. One large bath sheet, a smaller towel, and a couple of washcloths. He dropped them onto the end of the bed.

"Alright, operation Bath time is a go," he announced, rubbing his hands together. "How are we going to get you in there? Can you hop? Or do I need to carry you again? I’m not complaining about option two, just saying."

My cheeks were still warm, but the initial mortification had faded, replaced by a comfortable warmth. "I think... maybe carry me is safer," I admitted. "I don’t want to put any weight on it by accident."

"Excellent choice, buttercup," he said, already moving towards the side of the bed. He knelt down again, his movements easy and familiar. "Just tell me how you want to do this."

I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, my non-injured leg swinging free. He carefully scooped me up, supporting my back and knees, making sure the injured ankle was held safe and steady.

"Alright, off to the watery depths," he murmured, his chin brushing my hair as he stood.

He carried me through the bedroom door, down the short hallway, and into the attached bathroom. It wasn’t huge, but it was functional, with a sink, toilet, and a standard tub-shower combo. The space was usually filled with the scents of my various lotions and potions, but right now, it just felt... small, with Adrien filling so much of it.

He lowered me gently onto the closed toilet seat, keeping a supportive hand on my back until I was steady. "Okay, first things first. You need things, yes? Soap? Shampoo? Conditioner? And how are we navigating clothes?"

My blush was back with a vengeance. "Uh... the toiletries are under the sink and in the shower basket. And... I can manage the clothes. Just... maybe turn around for a second?"