111 Touch (2/2)

Regan laid in silence for a moment, contemplating what the stranger had said. 'Concern?' She was well aware of what she was. She was well aware of what she did, she was a murderer. A murderer deserved no concern.

”Why would you be concerned about me?” Regan asked, her head cocked to the side.

Vixen looked back at her. ”Why wouldn't I be?” he smiled. 'My job depends on it too.'

He walked over to her and placed the cold towel on her head.

”Ah!” Regan jumped, her body twitching. ”C-cold…” her face snapped to Vixen's and even though he couldn't see her, he could almost imagine what her face looked like.

He stifled a giggle.

”I-I asked for w-warmth,” Regan stuttered as the cold ran through her body in waves of chills.

”You felt a bit feverish,” Vixen replied blankly. They laid in silence for a second as he observed her. ”I'm going to touch you.”

Regan flinched. ”Touch?”

”Yes, touch,” Vixen repeated, ”it will be very brief.”

Regan's body tensed up. She couldn't move her body that much so she was already in a vulnerable state. She stayed still for a moment while she thought about it.

”Sure,” Regan nodded. She wasn't sure who it was or how he knew her but there was something about him that compelled her to trust him. She could be completely wrong too, but she wanted to see. She had enough trust for that.

Vixen nodded, his hand immediately lifting up and moving towards Regan's body. It hovered over her chest for a moment, giving the suspense he knew was stifling Regan. Then his land dove down into hers, his fingers interlocking with hers.

Her skin was frigid to the touch.

Regan flinched, her body tensing up for a moment. Overwhelming amounts of heat came from the point in which their bodies connected. They washed over her in flashes, pushing out her cold shivers. She eased back into her bed. He was warm.

Vixen immediately took the towel off her head and was about to stand up when Regan tightened her grip on his hand. She didn't want to let go. Vixen looked down at her for a second. He shook her hand off.

Regan sunk deeper into her bed, her hand hitting the bed limply. Cold overwhelmed her again.

Slowly, Vixen wiped her face with the cool towel and walked to the bathroom to squeeze the water out of the towel, then hung the towel on the railing on the wall.

”What are you doing now?” Regan asked, her lips quivering slightly.

”Getting you something different you to wear,” Vixen replied. His voice a deep monotone, it held no emotion and was cold to the ears,

Regan shivered. ”Getting me something to wear?” Regan turned to the stranger's voice. ”Why?”

”Your clothes are soiled. You threw up on them,” Vixen blankly replied.

Regan nodded her head in agreement despite the fact that her senses seemed dull so she couldn't smell the vomit on her. She sat there in silence while the stranger flipped through her wardrobe. The thought hit her right after.

”Wait… doesn't that mean I'm going to have to get undressed in front of you?” Regan exclaimed. She couldn't even move her arms yet. He wasn't just going to be in the room while she undressed-

”I'll be assisting you,” Vixen completed her stream of thought.

Regan could feel the panic seeping into her mind. She didn't know about allowing a male to assist her in getting dressed.

Vixen could feel her hesitancy. ”Don't worry, I have no desire to do anything with you. You'll be fine, you can tell from earlier.”

Regan thought back to the moments before. It was true that he had only held her hand but she couldn't ensure that he wouldn't do anything to her. Once was enough, but twice… her trust wavered.

Vixen pulled out a thick sweater from the bottom of her wardrobe. He had placed it there for her and judging by the fact that the spot it was in seemed untouched, she hadn't looked at it yet. Vixen walked up to the side of Regan's bed looking down at her below him.

”You ready?” Vixen asked.

Regan paused for a moment before nodding her head. She would trust again.

”Ok. I'm going to touch you again.”