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Her tit flesh was exposed below the cup as well as above it. She made one more pass over his body with the soap, starting at his head and working down his torso, turning him and repeating down to his back. The mess that once overpowered the space seemed to recede with each passing day, replaced by order and cleanliness. But now she was gone, and he was alone. The fabric peeled away to reveal a gaunt frame, a shadow of the man he must’ve once been. Grabbing a towel, she patted herself dry, the fabric catching on the barbell piercings that adorned her nipples. The mess that once overpowered the space seemed to recede with each passing day, replaced by order and cleanliness. Steam began to rise as she adjusted the temperature, testing it with a cautious hand until it felt just right—not too hot, not too cold, but soothingly warm. The sensation of the hot water hitting his skin was like a shock to Larry’s system—a stark contrast to the layer of grime that had become his second skin.