Romans & histoires Washes Over Me

I keep staring at my reflection, as if searching for something, maybe reassurance, maybe doubt, until the mirror completely fogs over, blurring the girl staring back at me. With a small sigh, I pull the oversized T-shirt over my head and step into the shower. The moment the hot water cascades over me, my muscles loosen, the tension in my shoulders melting away. I stand there for a few moments, letting it wash over me, before I finally grab the soap and start scrubbing, my arms, my legs, my face, as if the water could erase everything. As if it could make this entire situation disappear. But no amount of scrubbing can change what I’m doing.

He still didn't say a word and she lifted her eyes from the floor to look at him and that was exactly when he turned around. She quickly transported her eyes to the floor to avoid any further consequences. "You've just added an extra day to your punishment" he said as he walked towards her with a cloth and placed it on her chest. "Wash this....I'll be making use of it later" he added and sat on the bed. What? "No, that's not happening," she mentally screamed. She wished she could say it out to his face but that would be suicide mission. Back at her house, Josh always takes care of her dirty clothes, and here she'll have to wash for someone else?

I let the water cascade over me, closing my eyes for a moment to fully immerse myself in the feeling. The warm water rushed down my body, tracing over the curves of my skin, washing away the dirt and exhaustion from the day. I tilted my head back, letting the water flow over my hair and face, the droplets mixing with the tears I hadn’t realized I had been holding back. It wasn’t sadness, not exactly, but something else—a feeling of relief that came from finally being able to take care of myself in a way I hadn’t been able to for a long time.

I turned on the water. And let the steam wash everything away. What a day.

Iris’s POV The water from the shower came down in a steady, relentless stream, hot enough to turn my skin pink and fill the bathroom with thick steam. It blurred the glass door and softened the mirror until everything beyond it looked distant and unreal. I stood under it without moving, letting it hit my shoulders, my back, my scalp, as if I could let it wash everything away. I wanted to feel clean again. But the water never reached deep enough for that.

Every second feels like it stretches forever as I pray silently, hoping it isn’t some act—hoping he’s really out cold. I reach the bathroom, where the steam from my earlier shower has already dissipated, leaving the air clammy against my skin. My robe hits the laundry basket with a soft thud, and I step under the icy cold spray. The shock of the water makes me suck in a sharp breath, but I need it. I grab the soap and scrub hard, scrubbing away every trace, every lingering touch. I pay careful attention between my thighs, my stomach clenching as I remember.

I leave the door and drag a blanket around my shoulders and stumble to the stream behind the cabin. The water is snowmelt, a knife with a song. It hurts so clean I laugh. I lower myself to the waist, then to the chest, and scrub until the air bites less. Steam ghosts off my skin. I rinse the cloth and the cup and the metal plate. I wash the worst of his scent off me and the current carries it away and I hate that, so I press my palm to my neck where his mark blooms and the shame disappears. When I bring water back, I let the door slam just a little. It’s a test and I already know the answer.

The sensation of the water rushing over me was like a soothing balm, washing away the weight of the past and leaving me feeling refreshed and renewed. With each stroke of my fingers through my hair, I pushed the water backward, reveling in the simple pleasure of the shower. It was a moment of solitude and self-care, a reminder that life had its moments of serenity and tranquility. As the water continued to envelop me, I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth and the sense of well-being that it brought. The worries and uncertainties of the past were momentarily forgotten, and in that instant, all that mattered was the gentle sweetness that came from the tiny kisses Max placed all over my body.

If I don't move, I might crumble right where I stand. I enter the long shower with awe. The water hits my battered skin, soothing all my aches, and ridding my body of the atrocities they committed. I turn around, letting the spray clean my back, and instantly regret it. I hiss as my knees buckle and I crash to the ground.

This way I can just wash everything away. I get in the shower and feel everything just slowly melt away in the heat of the water streaming down my body. Washing the sadness and aching bones away with each minute that goes by. I get out the shower to hear a knock on my door, "One minute." I get my robe on and walk to the door. I crack it to see who it is, not wanting anyone to see me so exposed.