Unwanted Attraction To The Enemy

Seraphina stood rooted to the spot, her hand frozen on the bathroom door she had just swung open.

She had expected a cold, empty space, maybe some semblance of privacy where she could gather herself. What she found instead was… him.

Adolphus.

The scene before her felt surreal, like something plucked straight from an absurd dream.

There he was, standing under the pale light streaming in from the bathroom’s small, frosted window. His back was turned to her, broad and sculpted, every muscle taut and rippling as he moved.

His dark hair was damp, curling slightly at the edges, and his skin glistened faintly, kissed by droplets of water.

He was… dancing.

Not just any dance, but a careless, almost playful sway of his hips that was entirely at odds with the ruthless, brooding predator she had come to associate him with.

The rhythm of his movements carried an odd sort of grace—wild and untamed, like him.