Nine hours II
Camila's POV
I never thought I'd say this, but I was getting tired of sitting on my ass all day.
I was discharged from the hospital this morning and my entire day had been spent lounging around the penthouse.
Although Alejandro had kept my wish and gave me my space, the term was thrown around extremely loosely.
Marco and Ethan had disappeared on work after lunch, leaving me and Alejandro.
He didn't speak to me much or touch me-unless necessary. But that didn't mean his overprotective tendencies were any less annoying.
For starters he didn't leave my side. If I was watching tv on the couch, he was sitting on the other one, going through emails on his laptop but his eyes would constantly flicker to me, making sure I'm okay.
If I needed to get up to go and grab something from the kitchen, he was right behind me, grabbing everything I reached for and doing it himself.
But the worst part was when I had to pee, he would stand outside the door, like some sort of guard dog.
I didn't know what to make of his odd behaviour and although it was frustrating, I wasn't entirely put off by it.
It made me feel safe knowing that Alejandro of all people was with me. I knew that when it came down to it, he would put me before himself.
He's proved from time to time that he'd quite literally take a bullet from me.
He didn't make a move to argue or even speak to me and his actions were out of concern. Even though i could tell he wanted to say so much, he kept his mouth shut for my sake.
There was so many things I wanted to say to him but at the same time I didn't want to speak to him. He was exhausting and maybe he was sweet now but how much longer until he wasn't?
The highs with Alejandro were amazing, but that only meant the lows hit that much harder.
By the time the sun sets I find myself getting sick of laying in bed and when Alejandro makes a move to go change, I take the opportunity to sneak in the bathroom for a shower.
I feel disgusting and my skin needs a proper wash.
My movements are a little wobbly and I have a slight limp but I manage to make it into the bathroom. I waste no time in stripping myself of my clothes. My movements are limited considering I couldn't lift my left arm too high but I still manage to manoeuvre around it.
I didn't ask about being cleared to shower on my own, but I couldn't bother to care. I've come this far, I wasn't backing down.
The shower is a large glass rectangular shape with two main shower heads and definitely spacious enough for me not to feel trapped in. Plus the floor to ceiling windows across the far wall, giving me a view of the beach was a big help in calming my anxiety down.
I turn on the left shower head, leaving the other one off, not needing to waste water and when it's steamy enough, I slip into the shower, closing the door behind me.
I sigh out in content when I move under the shower head and the warm water hits my skin, soothing my aching muscles as it cascades down my body.
My eyes flutter shut and I lift my hands, my left arm sore but I still manage to run my hands through my hair and soak my body in the water.
I tip my head back letting the hot water open up my pores but I freeze the second I hear the sound of footsteps.
My breathing grows erratic and when the shower door opens and a blurry figure walks into the shower, I scream, taking a step back as my head snaps in the direction of the intruder.
My heart pounds and an overwhelming feeling of stress takes over my entire body. I place my hand on my chest in attempt to steady the rise and fall of it but I can't stop the panic, not even after I realize it's just Alejandro.
He's in nothing but his black briefs and my eyes don't stay glued to his bare body because my eyes snap up to his concern filled ones.
"Cazzo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." He curses as I move to place a hand over my breasts and one covering between my legs from him.
He takes a step forward and I take a wobbly one back as I stare up at him, my face a mix of outrage and fear. "What the hell are you doing?" I say angling my body away from his.
His eyes scan my face as a frown crosses his features. He places his hands on his hips in disapproval. "I should be asking you the same thing." He says, there's no lust or desire in his eyes. Instead it's replaced with concern and it makes me feel a little better to know that his intentions were somewhat in the right place. "You are in no condition to be in here alone." He chastises.
"Have you ever heard of boundaries?" I snap. "Get out." I say but he simply turns and walks towards the far corner of the shower, away from the water droplets.
The shower is big enough to fit his tall frame and since the second shower head isn't on, he takes up a position in the far corner, crossing his muscular arms. It's like he's on guard and I finally lose my patience with him.
"You can't just stand there and watch me!" I spit but his posture tells me that he's not going anywhere.
I tighten my hands around my body and I shift uncomfortably. "I don't want you looking at me." I say, my voice softer than before.
His brows furrow and he squares his shoulders, like he doesn't understand why I would possibility not want him in here. "I'm not risking you hurting yourself in here." He says firmly.
His eyes trail down my form to my hands wrapped around myself, covering myself from him and a soft look of understanding fills him before he looks up at me.
"Im going to turn around and you're going to tell me if you need any help, yes?" He murmurs. He doesn't wait for a response, instead he turns around, taking his previous on guard position.
I pause and blink at him in bewilderment.
Is he serious?
He stands with his back to me. The muscular skin glistening from the steam but instead of trailing his attractive build, I turn forward as I huff at his behaviour.
A part of me couldn't believe the audacity he had to come in here like it was fine but the other part of me, the one I hated, found his sentiment to be sweet in some twisted way.
I turn to the shower head and start to lather shampoo in my hair. We don't speak to each other. Instead we engulf in silence, one that's relaxing enough for me to shut my eyes and embrace the comfort of having him in here, watching over me.
It isn't until I'm washing the body wash off myself that he breaks the silence and I can tell by his tone that he's been thinking about it for a long time.
"Why didn't you call me?" He croaks, his voice hoarse and hesitant.
I turn my head to look at him. His back is still to me but his head is tilted back and he's staring up at the ceiling with his hands placed behind his head.
I stay quiet for a moment as I stare at him.
We're so close in proximity, but I feel like there's miles between us and I can't force myself to shorten the distance.
In fact, I'm pushing him away and although it breaks my heart to do so, I can't seem to stop wanting to protect myself.
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