I saw his shoulders deflate and he knelt in front of me. He pried the loofah out of my clenched fingers and the moment I lost their comfort I started to cry.
I hate how I’m crying over every single thing.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered.
“Give it to me.”
“I can’t, baby you know I can’t.”
A scream clawed out of my throat and he placed his forehead on my stomach in defeat.
“Don’t do this to me Logan please,” I resorted to begging, “I need to get if off.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered
“I just want to be clean.” I pleaded with him, “Please don’t do this to me.”
He squeezed the corner of my stomach for a second and lifted his head. When he opened his eyes a certain redness was seeping into the rims- he’s crying. Why is he crying?
“There’s nothing on you,” his voice
