Chapter 243: Bath Service

As a result of her support, he managed to stand. But he nearly collapsed onto her; his unsteady legs offered little stability. She sensed his effort and strained to hold him.

"Susan, give me the crutches," Manuel said.

Susan quickly brought them. With the crutches, he finally steadied himself. He was eager to leave the bathroom, abandoning his planned shower despite its brief earlier benefit.

"You sure about that?" Susan asked.

"No, thanks. Just leave it for tomorrow when the maids come," Manuel replied.

Susan watched him struggle out, his steps unsteady on the slippery floor.

"Stop, let me help," she offered abruptly. For a neat freak, the thought of him forgoing a shower after a sweaty, slippery ordeal was almost unbearable. But he chose to endure.

He stopped, unbelievably. "I just don't want to owe you so much," she added. "No need for further explanation." The only way to repay her was to eliminate her debt.

He felt a pang in his heart. Susan's advice today was to stop overthinking. Fortunately, his red underpants remained in place—he'd prepared for a worst-case scenario of a serious fall and hospitalization, the underpants a small comfort in such a situation. He'd even feared Susan might refuse to help a naked man. The more he considered it, the less embarrassing it seemed. Yet, his body felt rigid as stone beneath Susan's touch, like a fish swimming in water.

She wanted to finish quickly and return to her room; she was thoroughly exasperated. But she was still shocked by the extent of his injuries. Though scabbing, the bruises were terrible. Guilt compelled her to be gentle while cleaning him, a gentleness that felt like fondling.

Manuel fought to control his thoughts. He must have seemed insensible. She had to tiptoe to reach his upper body. The man was astonishingly muscular, despite the injuries. It was hard to believe such a slender man possessed such well-defined muscles; she felt them distinctly beneath her hands. That explained his weight.

"You can take a quick shower," Manuel said.

Her fingers trembled at his voice. What had she done? Had she enjoyed exploring his muscles?

She tried to remain calm. "Do you know how dirty you are after a sweaty day?" she asked, finding an excuse for her prolonged attention.

Manuel was silent, remaining standing. At his request, Susan hastened. She quickly washed his upper body, then squatted to rinse his legs.

"Are they really numb?" Susan asked suddenly, unable to believe such long legs could be so unresponsive. Overwhelming guilt washed over her. She imagined herself in his place—suicide would be her only option.

"The doctor said the left one might recover later. The right one has a chance with rehabilitation," he said, attempting to ease her guilt.

Susan’s lips tightened; she couldn’t express pity, nor could she feign indifference. Silence fell, broken only by the sound of running water. His legs were clean, but his underpants remained a forbidden zone, though she couldn't avert her gaze. What could she do? She feared nightmares afterward.

"This is a normal physiological phenomenon," Manuel explained.

She was momentarily stunned. He thought she was staring at his erection? She'd noticed it when squeezing out the soap; as an experienced AV enthusiast, it didn't bother her.

"You want to do it yourself, or need help?" she asked, taking a deep breath, then struggling to articulate.

"I can do it myself," Manuel replied, sounding as if she'd intended to take advantage of him.

She was speechless. She supported him, freeing one of his hands to wash, her head averted.

Manuel took a long time to finish. It wasn't easy, requiring careful attention to avoid both of them falling. The shower room fell silent again, the quietness embarrassing Susan; she couldn't help imagining his movements. After a long time, she heard:

"I'm finished," Manuel announced.

Susan turned. She tried to remain calm, to behave naturally, reminding herself this was simply assistance for a handicapped man. But her face flushed crimson as she saw Manuel’s face, as red as an apple. It felt as if they’d shared an intimate moment. The bathroom was thick with unspoken tension.

"How come you, a man, are so flushed?" Susan complained; he had embarrassed her.

"No one's ever seen me like this before," Manuel explained, ashamed. Was he the submissive one? Why did she feel like the dominant one?

"So, does that mean I'm the first to see a naked man like you?" Susan asked, incredulous. Who was the truly embarrassed one here? How could a man be so shy? She hadn't even asked for compensation.

"Haven't you seen before?" Manuel asked cautiously, trying to maintain his composure.

"Not yet," Susan replied tartly, blurting it out without thinking. But when she saw Manuel's smile, she sensed something was amiss.