Having stuffed myself to maximum capacity with over three eggs, hash browns, bacon rashers and pancakes not to mention a tall glass of orange juice I was starting to feel better about the morning. As well as a little sick. Yuri as per usual chewed through only half an egg and a glass of orange juice, forget figure she should be dead from malnourishment. As I finished I spared no time in collecting our plates and dishes and pilling them into the sink to clean. I must admit for it being two meals only I was starting to get used to a steak knife replacing the usual kitchen variety.

I knew Yuri liked knifes but I was beginning to see the benefits of eating with a sharp one. It made for a cleaner cut and the blade was lighter. It still carried an air of caution with it however and food could not be scooped on it so I suppose it had some cons. Done reviewing knifes I ran some water and began to scrub. The water was not as hot as it should have been probably due to the snow on the pump but it was warm enough.

Gathering a brush and bottle of Eco-detergent I began to scrub, the water transforming into a bath of foam. As I cleaned I looked over at Yuri who had seemed to have collapsed on the table. I couldn't tell if she was asleep or resting but her eyes were shut and breathing was slow. As my hands switched to auto pilot I began to watch her. I was quite sure she was asleep as I watched her gentle breaths push against her clothes in slow rhythmic pulses. 

As I began to watch more I noticed that despite I had already identified them to be big Yuri's breasts were of an exceptional size. They Almost cushioned her a little bit as she leaned against the table. Despite that it actually looked pretty uncomfortable with such large assets being weighed upon by the full density of the human body. Bad reading posture,  ha, don't be shy Yuri.

Her mouth was open but a bit to let the gentle series of breathes take place. I watched for longer and longer the rise and fall of her chest contrasted to her peaceful face, overflowed by unrestrained locks of aubergine hair which cascaded down her cheeks and pooled around her neck. She just gleamed with beauty, a slumbering rubelite overshadowed by the falling snow. Such genuine, pure beauty was almost incomprehensible, yet it was there, tangible, reachable.

Before I could take more time to examine Yuri a knife in the sink sunk its was into my arm causing my to utter a small Shh! through my teeth and to have Yuri jolt awake. Inspecting the wound it did not seem to be major. The delicate silver blade merely jabbed me on my lower arm causing a small cresent prick of blood to appear, the detergent hurt the most of all. Seeping in on a microscopic scale, a bubbly, lime green, torrent of pain. My arm was fine with the wound already congealing at the damage point. "Oh my god..." Yuri muttered in a terrified oust of words as if I had just fatally stabbed myself. Like a gust of worried air she was upon me in seconds grasping my arm to take a look at the cut.

With the awkward memory of the "finger licking" still in mind I was hesitant to let her handle my wound in case she engineered a way to coil her tongue around my arm. Instead of this Yuri took one look at the cut and twitched, her right eye changed but for a second as her pupil shrunk and cornea grew, quite the reaction for such a little cut. As I endured the last of Yuri's clinging she rapidly detached "I have to get a" she twitched once more "a-a towel" she managed to say as she escaped the room to the bathroom. 

-Yuri must really hate blood. If that's how much it affects her i'm surprised she even helped me at all. I should really be more grateful.

By now most of the blood was gone, well at least it wasn't dripping anymore. All that was left was a red smear and a dried slit of congealed blood cells. Yuri returned with a towel and placed it on my arm. It was actually really warm surprisingly and I relished in the heat. Not wanting the little scrape to get infection I asked Yuri if she had any plasters. "No I, I don't keep blasters" Yuri explained, odd for someone who doesn't like blood, or so was my current hypothesis.

With that insignificant issue out the way I thanked Yuri for her help who by now had her feet together and fists against her chest with a pleased expression like a maid. And yet against clambered up the stairwell to achieve the mornings potential. Such of which was to procure a set of clothes and to freshen my breath. 

Glancing out the hallway windows it seemed the whole neighborhood had been buried in snow, with nothing cars or people out on the road and streets I was surprised none of us had said anything about this current situation but rather obsessed over a pin prick and had me investigating some pink letters on a wall. Priorities are apparently not our strong suit.

I quickly threw on a suit of clothes of which were much better than what I was wearing. A striped blue T-shirt, jeans and a pair of very thick woolen socks, that to be frank I didn't believe I would need while packing. Tugging the last sock up to my shin as far as physics would allow I stumbled across the hall, shut the bathroom door, stripped and turned on the shower.

Despite my terrible order of readying myself I was glad to have a warm shower, anything that contained some sort of heat really. The water  in Yuri's shower was soft like rain. Sort of a heavy mist which was able to wash at all angles such that positioning was not necessary. As I washed careful to make sure the door latch stayed shut and that I did not accidentally apply any soap or product I happily stayed in the shower for a good 20 minutes and examined the various fixtures and designs.

Because of the student neighborhood most of the bathroom architecture was familiar for me. Tiling wise Yuri had gone for yet another cream pallet this time with elements of charcoal black for dressers and certain tile patches. Fixtures were simple if not a bit bland and the scent of jasmine oil filled the air. It source I could not identify. Last but not least the rooms primary mirror which looked very expensive was shaped like an oval and had a golden frame.

The pristine crystalline surface refracted the light coming from the door ways hinges into a mirad of beautiful colours, a pure spectrum of rainbow. 

...

Except it shouldn't. There was never any light coming from the door hinges. At least not before. It was being blocked. By a shadow.

I wouldn't say my veins ran cold. But I defiantly furrowed my brow in frustration. Such a small thing, the best thing to do would be to dismiss it. But for some reason it stuck with me, not for long, but long enough for me the realize the shower was ice cold.

If iv'e been here for thirty minutes. Then so has the shadow. That was enough to force we to abandon the prospect of cleanliness as I turned the shower off. I dried up, now wet, chilly and confused and began to brush my teeth.