I lacked patience, so after a few futile attempts at drying off with paper towels outside, I led him back home.
"Hot water's here, shower gel's there," I indicated, leaning against the glass door. "Is that alright? If not, I can join you."
The composed front he had maintained since entering the door crumbled at my words, and he gently ushered me out, responding, "I can manage."
Clad in a towel, I blushed once more as he guided me with a hand on my back. Watching his silhouette in the bathroom, I thought to myself, this won't do, not if I want to get any sleep tonight.
Once Marco emerged from the shower and donned his pajamas, he sat on the bed like a bashful son-in-law.
I found it amusing and lifted his chin to meet my gaze.
In a silk halter dress with no room for imagination, I leaned in, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes met before he looked away.
"Come with me."
I led him hesitantly to the study. Being an avid reader, I had a spacious desk in the room, which, as it turned out, had uses beyond reading. Guiding him to the table, I sat on the edge and began to make my move.
Marco seemed uncertain, and I casually traced his abs, saying, "You mentioned wanting to start with me at the library, didn't you? Since the library is a public place, and my sister can't accompany us, let's settle for the next best thing."
"Right here, now—"
His ears turned as red as pigeon blood under the warm light of the room, and unable to resist, I teased, "Do as you're told."
He responded by wrapping his arms around me without making another move.
Biting my lip, I asked, "Do you want to?" He remained silent, but the pressure in his grip intensified.
"Wants to be called 'sister,'" I remarked, unable to contain my amusement.
He only referred to me as "sister" once, when I was inebriated, and then he ceased, seemingly uncomfortable with the fact that he was younger than me.
However, I have always been resolute, adept at persuading him to do things he wasn't keen on. I made my move. He was reaching his limit and gazed at me with red eyes.
"Address me as Sister," I urged, leaning in slightly for him to comply.
"..."
From the corner of my eye, I caught Marco attempting to kiss me and casting a pleading look. Unmoved, I insisted, "Call me your sister." ...
Ultimately, under my coercion, Marco cried out "sister." It became evident that everyone has a breaking point.
With the first instance came the second.
That night, with red eyes, he addressed me as sister and faltered a few times, like an innocent soul being lured into darkness by a seductive spirit.
...