Love & Decay, Episode 11 by Rachel Higginson Page B

would have to stand inside them so they could catch the water. It was effective, but the bottoms were too small for our feet. Painful, but effective.
                  “We’re going to play a game,” Hendrix murmured as he brought everything over to me and set it up on the buffet. “We can help each other wash, but no kissing.”
                  “That does not sound like a game.” I tried for sarcastic but it came out so much breathier than I intended. We’d done this before- more than once. But this seemed oh so much more intimate. And a little naughty.
                  “You’re right, it’s more like a life line.”
                  But we were both wrong. After Hendrix slipped into athletic shorts while I gave him some privacy by closing my eyes- I didn’t peek, not once. Ok… maybe once- we set about washing each other’s hair and helping with all those tough to reach places on each other’s bodies. We kept everything remarkably PG-13, but the entire experience was still intimate and sexy. And more than that we fell into each other even more, we got to know each other in ways that we hadn’t yet. We laughed more than I had in a long time but never lost the sensual feeling of touching each other, of letting our fingers skate over soapy, slick skin and keeping our lips from making the connection they desperately wanted to.
                  These moments were perfect- torturous, a little bit erotic and so very perfect.
                  Hendrix was just everything I could have ever wanted. And he was mine.
                  This was as real and as honest as love was. And somehow I got to be a part of it. I got to experience it. There were so many things day to day that I didn’t want to experience but had to face anyway. And then then there was this- there was Hendrix. This one thing in my life felt so special and so incredible I couldn’t believe it belonged to me.
                  And while we got rid of the dirt, grime and horror of the last few days, I realized that I was “bathing” Hendrix in the same way that Kane had demanded I wash him. Only, this was the way it was supposed to happen, this was the way relationships were supposed to form, develop and grow.
                  Kane tried to force something on me that I neither wanted nor asked for, but he expected anyway. Hendrix held no expectations for me, but this was what I wanted, what I never even thought to ask for because it was too good, and too pure for this world.
                  The difference between the two men was blatantly obvious and it made me concerned for my poor, fickle heart that would sometimes stutter whenever Kane was near. Hendrix was the opposite of this world, light to its darkness, life to its decay, love to its utter hopelessness. And Kane was the epitome of everything I feared and hated- controlling, overbearing, demanding and manipulative.
                  My heart wasn’t in danger of falling for Kane because it already belonged to Hendrix.
                  But sometimes Kane’s broken humanity could pull on my heartstrings and that was where the trouble lay.
                  When Hendrix and I finally emerged from our careful cocoon of each other, freshly bathed and deliriously in love, I knew I had to be careful. I knew I had to guard myself from the battle we had yet to wage. Because while the threat of Zombies loomed heavy and dangerous over us. The imminent threat that was Kane and his father waited carefully and calculatingly. It was only a matter of time before we crashed together in disagreement- maybe only a matter of hours.
                  And in this new world, with this new way of life, these moments hadn’t been covered yet. This was new to us, unpredictable and uncertain. Man had given up fighting each other on large scales because we had a bigger