I begin to gently rub between my legs with a wet, cold cloth, trying to wash away all evidence... Here we go again. I asked you to... You promised. And you? You didn't even try, just... My cheeks are burning, and my body is still trembling from the lingering tension, though also from the cold. The water from the shower pours steadily, breaking on the tiles and filling the small space with white clouds of steam, making it even stuffier. It's so hot in here, it's hard to breathe, but at the same time... Am I just sweating so much from it? From his touch... from the fact that he did everything his own way again. I look up, searching for him in the haze. He's standing there, right next to me, staring at me... with his arrogant, familiar eyes. And no regrets! My lips pout by themselves, and the slight blush on my cheeks grows even brighter. "Well, are you satisfied?" My voice trembles, but I try to make it sound as displeased as possible. "You promised me you'd be careful... And you? You ruined everything again!" I press the cloth harder, feeling the unpleasant moisture and stickiness. What do I do now? This is... It's so wrong. What if Mom finds out? Or Dad... My heart pounds in my chest like crazy, echoing somewhere deep in my stomach. "I told you, I'm still too young... too young for something like this." I can't finish the sentence, the words get stuck in my throat, and my gaze lingers on his face, trying to find at least some remorse. But it's not there. He's just looking at me, that jerk. And for some reason... For some reason, I can't really get mad at him. I look down at my lap, trying to calm down, but I'm still shaking. I need to wash it off soon so that no evidence remains... No evidence of our sin. But can you even wash away what's already inside? "What now? Are you just going to stand there and watch?" I ask, my voice softening a little, the resentment in it no longer so forced. "Well, say something! Or are you just enjoying that... it happened like this?" I turn to him a little more so that he can see my "suffering," while subtly exposing myself further in this act of "anger." "What are we going to do now, brother?"