The sunlight filtered in through the dusty window as Rachel let the warm water run over her skin. She took comfort in the small things most days. Small things like a solar heated shower, or the decency of a female guard being posted while she took said shower.

Sebastian Monroe had been her captor for a very long time; too long to remember anymore. Days had melted into months, which washed into years… there was very little point in counting now. She lived for the dreams she had at night where she could see her children and hold them closely. There in those dreams she could walk on the beach with Ben, coax Danny to take his first steps or watch Charlie blow out the candles on her cake. Waking up was the hardest part of every single day.

She wondered if they were even still alive, convinced that she would never see them again. Monroe came to her every so often, though she hadn't been keeping track of that either. It was always the same thing. He wanted her help. He had tried everything to persuade her. Screaming, begging, threatening, hitting, starving, but he never let them torture her. He never let them kill her. She endured it with cold silence, or the occasional refusal. It wasn't that she wanted to be dead. The spark of hope that barely burned inside of her would never allow her to get to that point. Though she caught herself sometimes, thinking death was better than purgatory.

She jumped when she heard something; looking around the steam-fogged glass she saw nothing. She went back to the water, letting out a ragged sigh. She rinsed the lavender soap from her hair, rubbing her face vigorously. She shut off the water and knelt down to blindly search for her towel she had left with her clothes.

"Looking for this," asked a rough voice from above her somewhere.

Rachel gasped and rubbed the water out of her eyes furiously, covering herself with the other arm. Her vision returned enough to make out the boots of the man in front of her.

"I'm not looking Rachel. I'm holding out the towel. Just stand up," he ordered.

Rachel kept her arms across her body as she rose to her full height, jaw clenched in anger. "Now my showers aren't even private, Bass?"

Sebastian allowed her to pull the towel from his extended hand before turning his back completely, arms raised in mock surrender. "I had a free moment, and I needed to talk with you. I can't help that my schedule isn't as free as your own."

Her laugh echoed off the high ceiling, "You're right. I'm just sitting around doing anything I please all day long. How exceptionally careless of me not to consider your busy tyranny and every changing whim."

He looked at her in the mirror from the corner of his eye. Her back was now to him with the towel wrapped snuggly around her delicate frame. She twisted her hair, ringing out the excess water. Her shoulders and legs still sparkled from the sun's reflection in the beads of moisture she had neglected. He permitted himself a lingering gaze, looking away before she noticed his attention. This was the first time he had ever seen her like this in all of the years she'd been here. He was certain she had some idea of how badly he wanted her. She had built so many walls to keep him from seeing anything she felt. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Why do you have to be so hostile toward me," he asked earnestly. "I've given you every luxury I allow only to myself or the generals. Yet you act like I've kept you locked up in some god forsaken whole in the ground."

She could hear the edge in his voice, "Bass. I'm still a prisoner. No matter how well you might treat me. So I'm sorry if gratitude isn't my first priority."

His frustration got the better of him as he turned on his heel to face her. He saw a look of surprise cross her face before she returned to her usual cool demeanor. In that flash, he recognized something unmistakable. Her defenses weren't as strong as they had been. The silence between the two of them made the sound of his boots on the tile floor almost deafening. He stopped just inches away from her, never breaking eye contact once.

"I'd like to do something to improve your attitude," he whispered. "Tonight. Have dinner with me."

This was a statement, not a request. She could feel his words against her skin, unsure if her shiver was a response to him or a reaction from standing in nothing but a towel. Her cheeks burned hot as she tried to find something to say. She instinctively bit the edge of her bottom lip, looking down to break his stare.

Yet another sign of vulnerability from her that caused Sebastian to smile. He let the edge of the back of his hand touch her check, causing her to jump a little. He caught her eyes once again, holding her attention.

His voice was almost inaudible, "Please?"

Rachel swallowed hard, and nodded quickly. She looked back down again, saying nothing. She felt the warmth coming off of him, not sure if she should be welcoming it so much.

"I'll see you in the dinning room at seven. Don't be late," he whispered. His boots sounded against the floor once more as he walked away. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw the redness in her cheeks was more than noticeable.

"Rachel," Sebastian called from the doorway.

She looked over at him; sure he could hear her heartbeat too.

"You're beautiful."