[ dry ] your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc
His arms are warm, wrapped in plush terry cloth, and they reach out to take hold of her when she tries to rise from the tub. Her cane had fallen out of reach when she tried to grab it before, and after hearing the clatter, Selig had appeared to be her new support.
“Oh--” Emmeryn’s face began to burn. She practically stumbled into his arms, wet and naked. Naturally, he had seen this before. They were married. But her memories of him were still fragmented, and they had not rekindled intimacy yet. Not until they both knew she was prepared for it.
“Are you alright?” Selig asked her, smiling sympathetically. His arms stayed around her, helping her stand and wrapping her in the long swath of toweling. He had caught glimpses of the scars on her back now, but he chose not to comment on them. He wouldn’t bring it up unless she wanted him to, because they both knew where those new marks were from.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her arms were clutching his shoulders to regain her balance. “I’m sorry--”
“Nothing to apologize for, Emmeryn,” he was quick to interrupt her and kiss his forehead, his lips brushing over her brand. With the towel acting as modesty, Selig reached for another one and began to massage it through her hair, wringing out what excess he could from her sopping locks. “Was it a good bath?”
“Yes,” she smiled. “The warm water helps my hip.”