The absence of our usual shared shower routine leaves a visible void between Zayn and me as we settle into bed.
The intimacy of those moments, the simple act of him brushing and scrubbing my back, has become a cherished ritual—a small but significant gesture of our love and connection.
Tonight, the solitude of our separate showers serves as a stark reminder of the distance that has crept between us, a silent testament to the fractures in our relationship that even the steamiest of showers can't wash away.
As I nestle into bed, l keep my back to him. It's a form of a shield against the turmoil roiling within us, he disrupts the fragile peace.
His call pierces the silence, a summoning I can't ignore. Before my mind can weave a response, his arms encircle me, a force gentle yet insistent, turning me to face him.
