Three's Company

31. Static

Dinner that same night felt as awkward as the walk home had felt. They sat and ate in complete silence. Nothing felt normal, it was worse when they finished their food, leaving them with nothing more to do.

Much to her relief, he took the dishes, cleaning up for her whilst she excused herself and went to shower away the day's grub.

It didn't feel normal, not until she was standing naked in the shower, under the hot spray. Water cascaded down her body, helping her relieve the pain.

It didn't feel normal, not until the bathroom door opened and his tall figure was entering inside.

Not until he was slipping his shirt off and removing his belt.

Not until she heard the clinking of the metal noisily hitting the ground and the shower door parting.

Not until he was stepping inside and his hands snaking up to her face.

He broke that silence first, gently wiping under her eyes and looking down at her. Despite there being water on her face, he knew she had been crying in here. He could hear it.

"I hate that all I do is make you cry." He said, her vulnerable state making it harder for him. "I hate seeing you hurt over me, and I hate hurting you. I hate it."

Her bottom lip quivered, mustering up a frown. "I'm not crying over you." She lied.

Heath didn't say anything to that, letting go of her face to only grab the shampoo and squirt it into his palm.

When she stood there, still confused, he gestured for her to turn around.

Mona swallowed her anxiety, facing the shower head again whilst he slipped behind her. His fingers came in to her curls, slowly massaging into her temple.

Her back pressed firmly against his chest, it wasn't like he was trying to be a jerk in that moment. The whole thing was best described as intimate, don't get her wrong, however, it wasn't in the way most would think it to be.

It wasn't sexual, but it was as intimate as it could be.

The broken couple relished in the company of one another, both thinking of how long it had been since they had last been so close.

She felt him move and heard the detachable shower head being taken down. Bringing the nozzle up to her hair, he began to wash the product out carefully.

"I promised your parents that I'd never make you cry, and yet in the last five years, you've cried yourself sick in this very shower." He said, piecing the puzzle together in his head. "Haven't you? That's why I never saw a single sign of you knowing, right?"

She stayed quiet, finding it hard to answer that.

He was realising that every time she took a long shower and he was bothering her about how long she took, she was really just hiding away in here. Drowning in her own tears.

Fucking hell, what had he done to her?

Once he finished washing her hair, he placed the shower head back to its original position and turned her back around by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you like this." He apologised for what must've been the umpteenth time that evening.

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, sighing once more. "What's done is done, Heath. I told you before, I don't want to keep talking about it."

He searched her face with his intense gaze, but all he found was sheer void.

She couldn't even look at him, too afraid that he would see everything she had kept hidden for years.