Harley
I immediately stepped into the shower, not even bothering to remove all my clothes before yanking off the last piece with frustration. The moment the warm water hit my skin, it was like a lifeline snapped back into place. It ran down my back like the much-needed nourishment I hadn't realized I craved all day. Steam curled around me, rising in thick waves that clung to my skin like a lover's embrace. My muscles, taut with tension and unspoken irritation, finally relented to the comfort of the heat.
The gel—lavender and citrus by the smell—burst into the air with a heady sweetness that transformed the small shower stall into a makeshift garden. The fragrance was strong but not overwhelming, refreshing enough to make me greedily inhale as if it were oxygen itself. The tight space filled with mist, trapping me in an illusion of calm. For a second, just a second, I forgot why I was angry. I allowed myself to pretend that none of it mattered.
