Sure, here is the translation to English:

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Gavin spent the entire day out. I missed him, of course, but having Donovan's company full-time was more than great; incredible and wonderful seemed to be good definitions. His gaze was on me the whole time, and I often felt that he was holding back a lot to avoid touching me. Either his attraction to me was more evident, or he had been exercising control for so long that it was starting to show cracks. But it could also be nonsense in my head, whose imagination seemed to be drastically affected by the books I was reading.

After lunch, he took me to the doctor for a consultation. It was a one-hour appointment, and I thought he would go out to distract himself or something, but it was the opposite; besides waiting patiently for me in one of the white chairs, as soon as I came out, he went to talk to Dr. Solloman.

I know he wasn't the only one who could see me, but he seemed to insist on taking care of my case, and I didn't quite understand why. I wrote to him on a notepad, since I couldn't speak, and told him about the speech barrier and that now I could open my mouth to try to communicate. The elderly American seemed pleased and gave me specific instructions to follow. According to him, the tendency was for my speech to recover in one or two months, maybe less, if I practiced the exercises correctly and frequently.

As we left, Gavin bought some astrology magazines for me. It was one of my favorite subjects before... Before. He also bought a lollipop, and for a few seconds, I felt like a child accompanying their father. Mainly because he was very tall and sturdy, and next to me, he could really pass as my guardian.

Back at the apartment, I went straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Gavin used to knock on the door every two minutes, and I truly understood his concern, but I already considered myself stable enough. Donovan knocked only once, and imitating what I did with Gavin, I knocked twice on the tempered glass divider that separated the shower from the rest of the room. He found the response satisfactory and let me finish cleaning up without interrupting.

I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my hair and another around my body. Then I crossed the narrow hallway to my room.

As soon as I flung open the ajar door, I stopped walking.

Donovan was sitting, reading one of my books. By the golden lion prominently displayed on the cover, it was Chronicles of Narnia, which I hadn't even touched yet. He must have been trying to distract himself and wasn't expecting me to come out of the bathroom without being dressed.

Our eyes met. The book hung precariously from his hands, which, despite always seeming very steady, were now trembling dangerously.

His mouth was slightly open in mute shock. I noticed him swallow hard right after and sway. His usually serious expression was as still as I was. I knew I should do something to break the ice, but seeing him that way caught me off guard.

It took me a few more seconds to remember that I was completely naked under this white fluffy towel. I was afraid the feelings of vulnerability would overwhelm me, and I was prepared to do the breathing techniques in case that happened. But I remained normal, just surprised by the unfolding scene.

Donovan wasn't bothering to try to appear neutral. Or maybe he was and failing miserably.

His gaze fixed on my face slowly began to descend, passing over my neck, breasts, belly, legs, and feet. Then it made the reverse journey, carefully contemplating every feature, curve, and hollow. When he met my eyes again, I noticed something more explicit than the subtle signs from before.

A voracious look of hunger. A need, definitely.

Need for... Me?

I remained still. Even if I could say something, I couldn't.

Donovan slowly let go of the book on the bed, still without breaking eye contact. Then he stood up; his muscles and height seemed much more evident now, probably because of my extreme vulnerability at the moment. Slowly, as if he were in a dance and still didn't quite know how to execute the steps, he began to walk towards me.

As soon as he reached the most respectful distance he could, he stared down at me, his nostrils slightly flared. I heard the sound of his deep breathing; he must have been trying with all his might not to give in to the feelings and desires occupying his mind.

He took a step beyond the limit. I blinked, the only sign of surprise I allowed to show.

Then another. And he stopped there.

I could feel the air around him, warm and comforting, as well as his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed hard. Donovan had thick, sensual lips, and for a second, I imagined he would break all barriers at once. How would I react to that? At the moment, I was as lost and involved as he was.

Unintentionally, I leaned forward, as if my own uncontrolled instincts were making the decision that we ourselves couldn't.

But.

But I couldn't allow that to happen. And for reasons so obscure that neither of us could know or guess.

Yes, this was real. And what had happened with Gavin a few days ago had also been real. If that was the doubt that plagued me, I could already sigh with relief for having the truth of the facts.

This raised another question, however, and I didn't know if I would like to contemplate or answer it.

As if he had read the implicit refusal on my face, Donovan simply left the room.

I remained in the same place, my hands trembling and my emotions running high.

For the rest of the day, we hardly spoke. Not because we were upset with each other; quite the opposite.

We were too well.

The clock above the kitchen seemed to enjoy our torment and took its time pointing to the hour when Gavin would arrive. It seemed that both of us were hoping he wouldn't take long.

Sitting on the sofa, I watched Donovan on the balcony, eagerly waiting for a black 4x4.