“Get in, Inayah,” Salem spoke with levelled casualness, pointing at the opposite end of the claw tub. It was Victorian and large enough to fit them both comfortable. His elbow rested on the bath’s edge, cupping his jaw whilst sonorously watching her evident hesitance.
It was either the heat of steam that caused her cheeks to redden or something else, as her gaze dropped to the clear water surface, seeing everything beneath.
“I will dirty the water,” Inayah says and his mouth quirks at the corner.
“That’s the whole point, slave-”
“Inayah.” She suddenly said.
Salem grew still, arching a dutifully curious eyebrow.
Inayah raised her chin defiantly, mimicking the same eyebrow movement. “Inayah,” she repeated, “my name is Inayah.”
It was bold of her, something that completely caught Salem
