The Bar

14. Care

(A/N: Thanks for reading this far into the book, I rarely make A/N but I really want this book to do well. I have finished this book, its in drafts though, but I am editing and publishing them on here. Just to let you know, this book is part of three parts; The Bar, Freeing Clara, and Saving Flint. These books will be published on here, I have no plans to take them off, however...like all of my other books (I am publishing more) you will have to follow me to read the "explicit" scenes because those chapters will be made private, it's a precaution because Wattpad had made one chapter in Islands private for its content.

Thank you so much for reading, please vote, follow, comment, all that fun stuff.

-Annelie)
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Flint stepped through the doorway with Clara behind him. He turned to her and closed the door behind her, locking it. He grabbed the zipper of her jacket and pulled it. She was in a state of shock to the point were she didn't put up a fight.
He pushed the material off of her shoulders and down her arms. He moved pieces of her damp hair behind her ears then leaned down and pressed his lips on her forehead.

He brought her to the bathroom upstairs. He grabbed her a towel a placed it on the counter.

"Take a hot shower, I'll get you some warm clothes, okay?" He said soothingly. She nodded.

He left her to it. Going to his room, he began to set a plan. He would give her some warm clothes, wash her clothes and then make her dinner. He'd let her sleep in his guest room for however long she needed. He would help her in any way that he could but he didn't want to get involved with her until he knew what was going on.

Flint grabbed a pair of his boxers and a grey henley from his closet. He went back to the bathroom and placed the clothes outside the door. He lightly knocked.

"Clara, there are clothes out here for you. There should be hair bands in one of the drawers, you'll need to use them so that the clothes don't fall off of you," he says. A thank you comes from the otherside of the door.

He goes down stairs and opens his fridge. The man hadn't been grocery shopping in months. He shook his head and sighed.

Clara dried off and put on the boxers and grey henly that Flint had given her. She looked ridiculous in the oversized clothes. She used a hairband to tie the boxers to her waist and another to shorten the shirt.
She folded the wet clothes and placed them on her duffel bag outside the bathroom. She wondered the hallways until she found the staircase to the fornt door.

"Flint?" She called out.

"In here," he replied, moving out of the kitchen and into the foyer. He observed her hips sway in his boxers as she walked to him.

"Is it bad to say that I enjoy you wearing my clothes?"

He couldn't believe himself for actually allowing the words to spill out. The confession made him worry that she would run. Looking down at her, her eyes like a puppy from a shelter as she stared back at him. Her mouth opens then closes and after a moment she finally gets herself to speak.

"I don't think so..." she says hesitantly.

Once she is infront of him, he moves his hands through her hair, wanting to take the clothes off of her.

"Can we talk? I'd like to know what happened," he says cautiously. He sees the sadness consume her. She doesn't say a word, only shifta her gaze to the floor. He could see her chest rise and fall as her breathing quickens with anxiety. With a quick sigh he moves his hand to her chin, lifting her face up, her eyes shift back to look into his.