Oswald has just received a beating from a couple of cops he couldn't bribe. They toss him outside of the club and drive off. You open the door and try not to cry when you see his tattered suit and bruised face. He sniffles back some blood from his broken nose and waves his hand at you trying to maintain his dignity in this pitiful state. You silently nod and help him to his feet, fighting back the urge to chastise him for being so reckless. You motion one of his men to bring the car around and you help him into the back seat. Oswald appears grateful but ashamed to have you see him in such a lowly position. You try to hold his hand in the backseat, but his knuckles fist up and he turns his back to you to hide his shame. The chauffeur drops you off at your apartment and Oswald follows you up the stairs. Once inside your home, Oswald collapses on the couch with a sigh, still refusing to make eye contact. You decide to draw him a bath, in hopes of taking his mind off the disappointing evening. You sweetly announce that he should clean up before bed and he enters the bathroom, too tired to offer any objection. He shoots you an apologetic glance as he slides off his suit jacket. You pout at him, wanting to console his wounded pride, but turn away from him to allow some privacy as he undresses. You can hear him ease into the tub. Hearing his satisfied moan puts your heart at ease as you slowly turn around. His outspread arms grip the porcelain and you can see his muscles start to relax. Oswald assumed you would help tend to his wounds like Mother used to, but you coyly cut his thought short as you slip out of your dress and ask "May I join you?"
His eyes widen as his jaw drops. Although he's already explored every inch of your body, he always seemed grateful at the opportunity to marvel at your beauty. You stand before him, proud, eager, and inviting. Oswald always seemed surprised at your willingness to consent to his desires. He swallows hard, but manages to stammer "Y-yes, of course."
The water warms your skin, but you want to feel the heat of his burning skin pressed against yours. You rest your back against his chest, and let your fingers dip below the surface, tracing his outline beneath the water. You can feel his excitement rise against you, as you arch your back and present your neck as a humble offering to his parched lips. He does not hesitate. He presses gentle kisses into your shoulder, following the curve up to your neck and finally reaches your ear. You can feel his breath, so much hotter than the steam from the water. It sends chills down your spine, which is impossible to hide from him. He whispers "Thank you" as his arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you as if you might disappear from sight without his guiding touch. His tender caress leaves you breathless but you embrace the chance to reply "My pleasure."