Romans & histoires Washes Over Me

Apparently, I'm still that pathetic omega who fell for his lies. Frustration builds in my chest as I push off the wall and grab my loofah, squeezing far too much of my lavender body wash onto it. I scrub my skin furiously, turning it pink under my ministrations, as if I can physically wash away whatever spell Vincent has cast over me.

I must be losing my mind. Stepping into the shower, I turn on the water, fully clothed. The cascading drops wash over me, the sensation grounding me in the present. Every inch of my body stings, as if I've just been whipped. My voice feels hoarse, and my mind is a tangled mess. Tears elude me, and so I stand beneath the water, allowing it to mask my anguish.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower. I feel... filthy." I escaped to my room, the promise of hot water pulling me. The steam filled the large bathroom, fogging the glass as I stepped under the spray. The water flowed over my skin, washing away the salt and the grime of the day, but it couldn't wash away the image that was burned into my mind.

Have I not gotten over him yet? But I did! What the hell is happening to me?! I washed my face several times to bring myself back to reality—to wash out all the feelings. If only it could do that. I sighed hard as I leaned on the sink and stared at myself. “Ashanti, you can do this.” I cheered myself on. Well, that’s the only thing I could do. I took a deep breath for one last time before walking out of the restroom. You’ve got this, Ashanti.

That was the first step toward taking back control of my life. I removed the scarf from my hair, allowing it to fall loose around my shoulders. I stepped out of my gown and walked into the bathroom. The shower felt like a cleansing ritual—both physically and emotionally. I used my most expensive body wash, one I hadn’t touched in so long, and let it sink into my skin. My muscles, which had been sore and tense for days, relaxed under the warm water. I washed my hair thoroughly, letting the water cleanse not only my body but my soul.

Jane The shower had been everything I needed. Hot water beating down on my frozen skin, washing away the rain and the grime and some of the numbness that had settled over me. I stood under the spray until the water ran cold, letting it pour over me like some kind of baptism, like maybe I could wash away the last two days entirely. But I couldn't. Now I lay in the guest bed, wrapped in clean sheets that smelled like lavender detergent, staring at the ceiling as the city lights cast shifting shadows across the room.

I retrieve a soft washcloth and towel, feeling the coolness of the fabric against my fingertips. With gentle hands, I wet the washcloth and wring out the excess water, ensuring it is just the right temperature to soothe her overheated skin. Returning to her side, I sit down carefully, not wanting to disturb her peaceful rest. With utmost tenderness, I begin to cleanse her skin, starting from her forehead and working my way down. The coolness of the cloth against her warm flesh brings a sense of relief, as if washing away the remnants of the scorching day. I pay attention to every curve and contour, ensuring that every inch of her body is cleansed and refreshed.

Steam filled the bathroom as the hot water poured down from above. I stood beneath the shower with my head lowered, letting the water run through my hair and over my face. The heat spread across my skin. For a moment, it felt soothing. Like the water was rinsing something away. Washing off the heaviness clinging to my chest. But the feeling didn’t last. Uncle J’s voice pushed through my mind. “You blame yourself while you should be angry at the person who put you through this.”

Safe. I turn the shower on as hot as it’ll go, steam quickly filling the room as I step under it. The water hits my skin hard, almost scalding, and I welcome it. Let it ground me. Let it wash everything away—the tension, the fear, the memory of his voice, his touch. I lean forward, bracing my hands against the glass, closing my eyes as the heat sinks into me. My forehead presses against the cool surface, the contrast sharp and steadying.

I felt so alone. I stood under the hot shower. The water ran down my skin like warm tears that would not stop. Steam filled the bathroom and made the mirror foggy. I scrubbed my body slowly. The soap smelled of flowers but it brought no comfort. My hands shook as I washed my hair. “Julian,” I whispered to the water. “Where are you? Why won’t you come back to me?” The sound disappeared under the running water. I turned the tap off and stepped out. The cold air hit my wet skin and made me shiver hard. I dried myself with a soft towel. It felt rough against my tired body.