Each sob of yours that echoes off of the shower tiles causes his heart to shatter a little more. Hearing you wail, desperately, that you can’t wash it off.

You can’t wash off what the man you’d left the bar with, did to you last night.

And Ghost knows this feeling all too well.

“I’m just gonna move the shower-curtain, alright?”

Lowering himself to the ground where you sit within the shower. Reaching for the cloth grasped between your fingers.

“We’ll wash it off.”