No Hot Water Harley Dean //top\\ 〈Premium Quality〉

Fifteen minutes later, he turns off the water. He’s shaking, blue-lipped, but his eyes are clear. He towels off with a thin, scratchy towel that smells like bleach. He looks in the mirror again.

No Hot Water, Harley Dean

He sinks down onto the closed toilet lid, head in his hands. The cold tap still runs. Drip. Drip. Drip. no hot water harley dean

He rips the shower curtain back, half the rings snapping off. He turns the sink on. Cold. He holds his hands under the stream, then splashes his face. The shock of it forces a gasp from his chest. Fifteen minutes later, he turns off the water

He stumbles to the bathroom, flips the light switch. The fluorescent bulb hums and flickers, casting his face in sickly intervals. He avoids his reflection. He always avoids the reflection. He looks in the mirror again