Washes Over Me Novels & Stories

I stepped into the warm, welcoming embrace of the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me, washing away the residue of the past. With each drop that caressed my skin, I felt a little bit closer to cleansing myself of the darkness that had crept into my life. I scrubbed away the memories, the doubts, and the self-loathing that had haunted me. As I stood there, the steam rising around me, I tried to wash away the stain on my soul, even if just for a moment. It was a futile effort, I knew. Some stains ran too deep to ever be truly removed. But for now, in the soothing cascade of the shower, I could pretend that I was free of them, that I was a blank canvas waiting to be painted with a new

He must have brought me into his quarters, and if I had any life left in me, my heart would surely skip a beat. “I’ll warm you up right away. Just stay with me,” he urges, his distressed voice feeling alien to me. “I got you. I got you.” I got you. He continues to repeat it over and over again while he hurries through his bedroom and enters his bathroom. Without letting go of me, he steps into the shower and activates the stream of the rain shower. I gasp as the hot water hits me, streaming onto my frozen skin, reactivating my nerves again.

I muttered to the empty room, "then so be it." I rose and moved to the wash basin with mechanical precision. The water was shockingly cold against my heated skin as I splashed it over my face and neck. I scrubbed myself methodically, as if I could wash away the shame burning in my veins, then began the careful ritual of transformation.

The warm droplets cascaded over my body, washing away the physical and emotional grime that clung to me. With each passing moment, the tension in my muscles eased, and I felt a renewed sense of energy and purpose. As I reached for the shampoo, my fingers brushed against the scars on my scalp, reminders of the battles I had fought and the strength I had summoned. I let out a deep sigh, releasing the weight of my past, and allowed the water to envelop me in its soothing embrace.

For ever letting him be my obsession instead of the usual crush girls my age have. This was a wrecked ship from the start. Again, I struggle to my feet and start fixing my bath. Fresh cold water floods the shiny black jacuzzi. I'm not sure what Bianca throws in it, but I try to grab anything I can find. A few flavors. Vanilla petals. Some weird-looking strands like dried flowers… I reach for the body wash but it's empty. Not accepting it, I open the can and try to pump out the last drop. I want to wash his imprints off me, scrub my skin till I feel sore and stupid…

The hot water was heaven. It poured over me like a blanket, steaming up the mirror and rinsing off the day. I stood under the spray for a long while, just letting it run down my shoulders, washing away the weirdness, The weddings. The werewolves. The bonds. The Ethan. The Liam. The Mysterious agencies and all the bullshit that was part of my life at that moment. I didn’t sign up for any of it, and yet here I was, scrubbing conditioner through my hair like that would wash off everything I’d been dragged into.

He's simply unshaken by it. "Why? Not because he's immune but because his love for you is strong enough to overcome it. His resolve is unyielding, and no whispers of gossip or sidelong glances could break him. I asked him if it was worth it, and he said that as long as he could see your smile, no effort was too great.

The hot water gushed over my shoulders, but it couldn't wash away the stinging clarity that settled over me. I stood frozen under the stream, watching the remnants of his release swirl down the drain, rinsing off my skin until every physical trace of him was gone. I bathed properly this time, scrubbing my body with a mechanical numbness before turning off the valve and stepping out of the glass enclosure. Wrapping a plush white towel tightly around my chest, I walked out into the bedroom, feeling a heavy, suffocating wave of defeat wash over me.

It was like being enveloped in his essence. I took a quick shower, my mind racing and mechanical. The water was scalding hot, but it couldn’t erase the memories of his hands on me or the way he whispered 'Mama' against my skin. I scrubbed my body until my skin turned pink and tender, but instead of feeling clean, I became more aware of every drop of water, each one feeling like his touch.

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.