37 +
ANDREAS
As he passed by me, I grabbed his arm on impulse. His startled green eyes found me. He looked even more fiery in the candlelight. His blond hair seemed to be on fire. His green eyes, however, resembled a peaceful forest, in contrast to this fire.
"Wash me," I commanded. No one had touched my back since my mother died. I never let anyone near me while I bathed. I didn't want anyone else's hands on my childhood memories. I didn't know why I wanted this now. Still, I had no intention of changing my mind. Elena had no choice but to wash me.
She looked at me, raising her eyebrows, her mouth slightly open. Then her pink lips closed and opened. She didn't know what to say. Finally, in a weak voice, she said, "What?!"
"You heard me. Wash me."
Anger flashed across her face,
