Thorne closed the double doors to the bedroom with deliberate care, the sound a soft but definite click that echoed in the quiet room. His movements were slow, purposeful, like a predator stalking its prey. As he walked further inside, he began to strip out of his clothing, piece by piece. His shirt fell first, followed by his belt, then his pants, each article discarded carelessly onto the floor as he made his way toward the adjoining bathroom.
The faint sound of water lapping against the tub greeted him as he stepped inside. Noelle was reclining in the warm bath, his head tilted back, eyes closed, the steam curling around his relaxed form. His hair was damp and clung to his shoulders, and his expression was one of rare peace—a sight that made something stir deep within Thorne.
Thorne's lips curved into a smirk as he approached, his voice low and teasing. "Room for one more, my beloved star?"
