The warm water ran over her shoulders, down her back, and across her chest.
Steam slowly filled the room, curling around her bare skin like a soft veil.
Kyouko stood still beneath the showerhead, eyes distant, her hands slowly moving over her arms, her stomach.
She wasn't really washing.
Just… thinking.
Staring at the tiled wall.
Did he get bored of me…?
The thought lingered.
She bit her lower lip.
He's never… rejected me before.
Not once.
Not even when they were being reckless.
When the guilt was fresh.
When they still lived in the same house with Satoshi and Satomi.
Even then.
He was the one who always reached for her first.
He would pull her close.
Sometimes slowly, tenderly, whispering her name like she was precious.
Other times.
Rough. Wild.
Hands on her waist.
Mouth on her neck.
Tearing off her clothes like he couldn't breathe without her.
