Shadow sunk deeper into the bath, the water sloshing softly as he pressed his back against the smooth porcelain of the tub. His crimson eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, his cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

The light scrubbing Blaze had given him replayed in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to shove the memory aside, it refused to leave. Her touch had been… gentle, careful, deliberate. She hadn't mocked him, hadn't made a spectacle of his inability to reach his own back. Yet somehow, that made it worse.

Ridiculous, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. I'm the Ultimate Lifeform! I don't need someone fussing over me like I'm incapable of handling myself.

And yet…

Shadow groaned, sliding even further into the water until his nose barely peeked above the surface. His pride was wounded, sure, but what frustrated him more was the faint, lingering warmth from Blaze's hands. He hated how his body had relaxed under her care, how the tension in his shoulders had melted away, how his mind had wandered somewhere off to that forbidden place…

He clenched his fists under the water, berating himself. You're pathetic. Letting her help you like that. Letting her… He cut the thought off before it could go any further, his cheeks darkening in the steamy air.

With a sharp exhale, Shadow decided he'd had enough. The bath had done its job—he was clean, his muscles felt less stiff, and he could no longer smell the adhesive from the medical tape. He pulled himself out of the tub, water dripping onto the tile floor as he grabbed the towel Blaze had left for him. He dried off quickly, his movements clipped and deliberate, as if rushing could somehow erase the indignity of the situation.

Moments later, Shadow emerged from the bathroom, his expression the perfect storm of irritation and embarrassment. His usual scowl was deeper than ever, his crimson eyes narrowed as he stalked back into the living room.

Blaze was already sitting on the couch, her legs crossed and her attention focused on her tablet. She glanced up briefly when she saw him, her golden eyes flicking to the towel draped around his shoulders. "You look better," she said casually, though there was a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Shadow huffed, collapsing onto the opposite end of the couch with all the grace of someone who'd just had their dignity dragged through the mud. He noticed that Blaze had changed the towels on the couch to fresh ones, probably to avoid any complaints from Rouge about water damage.

As his crimson gaze swept the coffee table, he twitched when he saw the familiar sight of a takeout container. A faint, savory aroma wafted toward him, and he could see the steam rising from a bowl of soup.

Blaze noticed his expression before he said anything, and she raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You ordered takeout again," Shadow said, his voice low but pointed, as if she'd committed some great crime.

Blaze blinked, caught off guard by his tone. "Yeah? And?"

Shadow's lips pressed into a thin line. "You could've just made the soup. It's not hard."

Blaze stared at him, her ears flicking slightly in annoyance. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Shadow said, crossing his arms. "Soup isn't complicated. You're wasting money buying it when you could just make it yourself."

Blaze let out a sharp breath, sitting up straighter. "Well, maybe I would make it if I knew how."

Shadow raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from irritated to faintly incredulous. "You don't know how to make soup?"

Blaze's tail flicked behind her, a telltale sign of her rising irritation. She looked away, her cheeks faintly pink as she muttered, "No. I don't."

Shadow stared at her for a moment, his expression flat. "...Why not?"

Blaze hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around her tablet. She exhaled slowly, the faintest hint of embarrassment creeping into her voice. "Because I've never had to," she admitted. "The palace staff always handled the cooking. They never let me in the kitchen."

Shadow blinked, surprised by the admission. He hadn't expected that. Blaze always carried herself with such poise and self-sufficiency that it was hard to imagine her being prevented from doing something as simple as cooking.

Blaze glanced at him, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as if daring him to say something. "What?" she said defensively. "It's not like I didn't want to cook. They just… wouldn't let me. Said it wasn't 'proper' for someone of my status."

Shadow frowned, leaning back against the couch. He could understand the frustration of being limited by others' expectations—of being told what you could and couldn't do.

"Well," he said finally, his tone quieter, "it's not exactly hard to learn."

Blaze raised an eyebrow, her irritation softening slightly. "Oh? And you're an expert on cooking now?"

Shadow huffed, looking away. "I've had to fend for myself before. It's not difficult."

Blaze smirked faintly, leaning back against the couch. "Maybe you should teach me, then."

Shadow shot her a sharp look, his crimson eyes narrowing. "I don't have time for that."

Blaze laughed softly, shaking her head. "I figured as much." She glanced at the takeout container on the table, her expression softening slightly. "Besides, it's not like I mind ordering soup. It's quick, and you need to eat something warm with your injuries."

Shadow's gaze lingered on the soup for a moment before he sighed, his irritation melting into reluctant acceptance. "You're still wasting money," he muttered, though his tone lacked its earlier edge.

Blaze smiled faintly, picking up her own container. "Maybe. But it's worth it if it gets you to stop complaining for five seconds."

Shadow shook his head but didn't argue further, reaching for the soup. As he took a reluctant sip, Blaze watched him out of the corner of her eye, her smile growing just a little wider.

For all his grumbling, she could tell he appreciated the gesture. Even if he did look like a wounded puppy after his bath.

—-

Shadow set the empty soup container back on the table, his crimson eyes flicking toward Blaze as she smiled faintly, clearly pleased he'd eaten without much protest. He leaned back into the couch, his arms crossing as he shifted his gaze toward the window. The rain outside drummed softly against the glass, filling the quiet room with a muted, rhythmic sound. For a moment, it seemed like the evening would settle into peaceful silence.

But then Blaze reached into her bag.

Shadow's gaze caught the motion, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled out something sleek and shiny—a brand-new smartphone. She held it out toward him with a small smile, the faint glow of the screen reflecting in her golden eyes.

"What's that for?" Shadow asked, his brow furrowing.

Blaze's smile widened just a fraction. "This," she began, wiggling the phone slightly, "is for you."

Shadow's brow arched, his suspicion deepening. "I already have a phone."

"Yeah," Blaze said with a knowing look, setting the phone down on the couch between them. "If you can even call that ancient flip phone of yours a phone. This does way more."

Shadow scoffed, his arms tightening across his chest. "I don't need it to do more. It works fine as it is."

Blaze rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd say that. But just give it a chance," she said, nudging the phone closer to him. "You can do all kinds of things with it. You can watch videos, play games, scroll through news… It's not just for calling and texting."

Shadow's eyes narrowed, his lips pulling into a slight frown. "That sounds completely unnecessary."

Blaze shrugged, unbothered by his resistance. "Maybe," she admitted, "but it might also help you relax. And you definitely need to learn how to do that."

Her words made him pause, his crimson eyes flicking to her face. He hadn't noticed it at first, but now it was obvious—this was all part of her ongoing effort to get him to slow down, to take care of himself. First the bath, then the soup… now this. She was trying to teach him how to unwind, and the realization made annoyance flicker briefly in his chest.

But that annoyance was quickly tempered by something quieter, something he didn't want to name.

Shadow sighed, his arms falling from his chest as he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Fine," he muttered, giving her a look that said he was doing this purely to humor her.

"Show me."