He turned her under the spray when they were both spent and kissed her like the anger had burned off. Slow. Deep. Water running down their faces. Then he actually washed her — hands careful on her back, over her ass, between her legs, thumbs brushing the places he’d been rough ten minutes ago. He kept kissing her while he did it. Shoulder. Collarbone. The corner of her mouth. Tae’s chest did that stupid flutter she didn’t want to name.

He dried her after. Helped her into her clothes. Tugged her dress straight like he hadn’t just fucked her against gym tile.