He washed in slow, tender movements—over Riven's collarbones, down his arms, over the curve of his back.
His fingers brushed through Riven's hair next, combing out the tangles with water and patience, each stroke quiet and comforting.
"Say something," Soren murmured, breaking the silence. Since he was awake, he might as well speak.
"Nah, I'm enjoying this treatment from you." Riven smiled cheekily as ever.
Soren was relieved that Riven still remained spirited, he thought he had gone too far, but he seemed fine.
He lifted a small wooden bowl of clean water and poured it slowly over Riven's hair, watching it flow down his shoulders and ripple through the bath. Riven's lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering shut again. The tension in his muscles slowly began to melt.
