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Tilda has become pretty familiars with the noises at Burke’s house, every squeaking floorboard, every old hinge. She has become especially good at telling her new friends apart. Not by their voice. But their heartbeats, their breaths, the way they drum a pencil while they are thinking. She knew the way their organs moved, how their hair rustled. It sounds worse than it is really. She liked the reassurance of hearing them around. All this to say she knew exactly who was stepping into the shower in the dead of the night. Everyone else was asleep and the boring sounds of her friend in the bathroom wasn’t enough to grab her attention. That is, until she heard something she shouldn’t.
Water hitting skin. Soft locks dripping. Tilda was just about to fall asleep when a tiny detail took her by surprise; Juan’s breath was a bit faster than normal. She jumped into her bed and quickly scanned the area for any potential threats. No snipers or other monsters around. When she realized what was going on it was too late. She heard the sound of his hand touching flesh, how his heart speed up, the grunts leaving his lips. Oh... oh.
“Goddammit…”, she quickly grabbed her earphones in a frankly silly effort to muffle everything. She should have known it wasn’t enough.
The rhythmic movements were getting faster. A slight slap. Now the little moans were a bit softer, quieter, yet more frantic. She tried to stop it, but she couldn’t stop the image that plagued her head: Juan in the shower with a hand covering his mouth and the other stroking his length. “Oh, that’s not fair”, she thought bitterly “I’m going to kill this kid” Not a kid, her mind supplied instantly. She loved teasing him, but it was true, he wasn’t a little kid, and she couldn’t deny how much she liked him. She felt guilt creeping up, but it wasn’t like she was really cheating on P.J. She wasn’t going up the stair to join Juan in the shower. That thought made her twitch. The orchestra of moans coming from upstairs wasn’t slowing down either. Her own hand betrayed her and started creeping lower.
“…. Tilda”
She stopped. She almost thought she imagined it. It was so soft, barely a sigh. But it was real.
“Tilda… Oh God”
She froze up, unable to process what she has just heard. With one last final moan she heard him finish. The rest of his shower was pretty normal, thank God. Eventually a smile appeared on her face. She wanted to be cool and snarky about this whole situation, she wanted to scream at him or even be mad but the pink in her cheeks told another story. This guy was making her giddy like a stupid teenager. Whatever, no one was watching her.