Katarina had just finished taking a shower, feeling the weight of the day's events sinking in. As she reached for clothes to change into, she suddenly realized that she had forgotten her suitcase.
"What was I thinking?" she mumbled to herself, shaking her head in frustration. "It's all her fault for rushing me." She sighed, feeling defeated. "This is so dumb."
She opened the closet, hoping to find something to wear, but all she found were towels, bed sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. She glanced around the room, which was simple but comfortable enough to stay in for a while. The walls and floor were painted in a dull grey, and the furniture was white. It was the kind of guest room that felt impersonal but still functional.
"What should I wear?" Katarina muttered, feeling a bit lost.
She couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. She wasn't sure whether to call Sharon or just figure things out herself. Not wanting to get scolded again, she decided to send Sharon a message instead. When no reply came, she shrugged and decided to just make do.
With that, Katarina walked into Sharon's room without waiting for a reply. "She won't mind, right?" she muttered to herself as she wandered around the room. Sharon's bedroom was three times the size of hers, and she couldn't help but feel both awed and slightly intimidated.
The entire house had a black, grey, and white theme, and Sharon's room was no exception. The dark colors gave the room a strong, intense feel, yet it smelled sweet—scented candles were strategically placed in every corner. The room featured a queen-sized bed, an office desk, a bathroom, and a walk-in closet.
Katarina wandered into the walk-in closet, her eyes scanning the shelves for something to wear. She pulled out a few t-shirts and shorts, but as she turned to leave, something caught her eye—a red drawer. Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it, revealing an assortment of items that made her pause.
Inside were whips, leather handcuffs, chains, and leashes.
"What are these?" Katarina blinked, her confusion palpable, staring at the strange items.
"Does she own a dog?"
Her mind struggled to find a logical explanation. She had no experience with anything like this, and the more she thought about it, the more confused she became.
Shaking her head, she closed the drawer quickly, unable to make sense of it. She felt a strange unease but brushed it off as her own overactive imagination.
She turned to leave, shrugging it off for now. It's Sharon's business. I shouldn't overthink it.
As Katarina walked back to her room, her thoughts lingered, but her innocence shielded her from understanding the true nature of what she had just discovered. She was unaware of the complexities beneath the surface, unaware that Sharon's life—and intentions—were far more complicated than she could ever imagine.
The next day. Katarina woke up with a growling stomach, her lips pouting as she searched for the clock. Instead, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table and checked the time. It was time for breakfast, and Katarina never missed a meal—she always ate on time.
"I'm hungry," she mumbled, stretching her arms above her head. "I didn't have enough to eat last night." She glanced toward the door, a small frown forming on her face. "Is she awake now?"
The hunger gnawed at her, prompting her to leave her room and head toward Sharon's door. She knocked lightly, but there was no answer. Inside, Sharon was taking a shower, the sound of water echoing in the quiet morning.
Katarina pressed her ear to the door, listening. The water splashing against the tiles confirmed that Sharon was still in the bathroom. She leaned against the wall, waiting patiently, her stomach growling louder in protest. Minutes later, the sound of the shower stopped, and she heard the bathroom door shut. Katarina knocked again, louder this time.
Inside, Sharon frowned at the noise. Then she remembered—she wasn't alone in the house anymore. She adjusted the belt of her robe and walked toward the door. As she opened it, she was met with the sight of Katarina standing there, wearing Sharon's oversized white shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Sharon's eyes narrowed, not because of the shirt itself, but because of the faint citrus-shaped stain visible on it.
"I'm hungry," Katarina said softly, oblivious to the brewing storm in Sharon's mind. "Sorry for interrupting your time."
Sharon's expression darkened. "Is that my shirt?" she demanded, ignoring the younger girl's words.
Katarina blinked in confusion. "It is. I borrowed it."
The statement made Sharon's blood boil. "Borrowed?" she repeated, her voice sharp. "Since when? I don't recall giving you permission to touch my things. No one is allowed to wear my clothes! Do you understand that?"
Katarina took a step back, startled by Sharon's sudden outburst. "I texted you last night to ask, but you didn't reply," she explained in a small voice. "I forgot to bring my suitcase because you were rushing me to follow you."
Sharon crossed her arms, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So your mistake is my fault now?"
Katarina looked down, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She felt like she'd made another terrible impression on Sharon, further widening the distance between them.
"I told you not to cross my boundaries!" Sharon snapped, her voice rising. "I thought you were the smart one, but where's your common sense?"
Katarina's lip trembled, tears pooling in her eyes, but she kept her gaze on Sharon, refusing to look away despite the fear gripping her. Sharon's anger faltered slightly at the sight of the younger girl's tear-streaked face but remained firm.
"Take it off," Sharon ordered, her tone brooking no argument.
Katarina blinked in surprise. "Take it off?" she echoed.
"Now," Sharon said coldly.
Growing up surrounded by artists who celebrated the human body, Katarina saw nothing wrong with nudity in certain contexts. Hoping to ease Sharon's anger, she hesitated only for a moment before complying. She pulled the shirt over her head, her movements slow and deliberate, her teary eyes fixed on Sharon's face.
The shirt fell to the floor, revealing Katarina's slender figure. Sharon, a woman who had spent years appreciating art and beauty, felt her composure crack for the first time. Something about Katarina's vulnerability—her trembling form, her innocent gaze—made Sharon's stomach churn with an unfamiliar guilt.
"Do you strip in front of someone just because they ask you to?" Sharon asked harshly, averting her eyes.
Katarina blushed, crossing her arms over her chest. "N-No, but… we're sisters, and I upset you. I wanted to make it right."
Sharon sighed, running a hand through her damp hair. She loosened the belt of her robe, revealing the simple undergarments she wore beneath. Without a word, she draped the robe over Katarina's shoulders.
"Don't do that again," Sharon muttered, her voice softer now.
Katarina nodded, her cheeks still flushed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I won't do it again. Please forgive me. I don't have anything else to wear right now."
Sharon exhaled heavily, picking up the discarded shirt. "You did as I asked. Fine, you're forgiven." Her gaze hardened again as she added, "But if you step out of line one more time, Katarina, I'll rip your clothes off myself. Do you understand?"
Katarina's eyes widened in alarm. "W-Why would you do that?"
"Because I'm ruthless," Sharon replied, her tone icy. "I don't go easy when it comes to personal matters. So behave yourself."
Katarina nodded quickly, her submissive demeanor placating Sharon for the moment.
"Go take a shower," Sharon ordered, her strict tone returning. "I'll lend you something to wear to school today, and then we'll head out for breakfast. You've got ten minutes."
Like a whirlwind, Katarina darted back to her room to grab her things before disappearing into the bathroom. Sharon stood in the hallway, rubbing her temples.
"What a morning," she muttered under her breath.
Her gaze dropped to the shirt in her hands. Her thoughts drifted back to the moment Katarina had removed it. Sharon bit her lip, fighting the strange feelings bubbling inside her.
"Am I really losing my mind over something like this?" she mumbled, shaking her head. "Get a grip, Sharon. It's just a shirt… and just Katarina."
But deep down, she knew that wasn't entirely true.