The house, once vibrant and welcoming, now seemed to sag under the weight of neglect, the lawn overgrown and wild like untamed thoughts. And with every visit Cheyenne made, the transformation became more pronounced—the pile of discarded memories shrinking, the gleam of polished surfaces growing. So he hoped for something or someone to help him find his way. Undeterred, she grabbed the nearest trash bag and got to work. The air felt lighter, as if the weight of their grief had been lessened just a little bit. But he held back, aware of boundaries not yet crossed and the fact that he was still very much a man in need of saving. Once they heard the knock, Larry rushed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, closing the door most of the way. She peeled off her bikini top, revealing her C cup breasts that were perky and cone shaped with a small lift, what some have described as ski slope titties, her nipples, surrounded by half-dollar size areola were adorned with little barbell piercings that glinted in the bathroom light.
