"Did You Just Yell At Me?"

"Did You Just Yell At Me?"

Blake's POV.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as I stood beneath the cascading water, desperately trying to rid myself of her scent that clung to every pore of my body.

I scrubbed relentlessly, my hands moving with a ferocity fueled by my intense emotions.

The friction between my skin and the loofah felt like a battle, as if I was trying to scrub away the memory of her from my very existence.

The water turned cold as time slipped away, but I refused to relent.

I scrubbed harder, as if hoping to peel away not just the physical residue but also the emotional weight that she had burdened me with.

It was as if I needed to scour away the remnants of her touch, her presence, and the hold she had over my mind.

Exhaustion began to settle in, both physically and emotionally.

My skin felt raw and sensitive, the toll of my fervent scrubbing evident.

I leaned against the bathtub, my mind racing with a million thoughts.

And then, an idea sparked within me,