He stands up, removes his leather jacket for the first time in what feels like months, and hangs it on the back of the bathroom door. He pulls off his shirt. His torso is soft, covered in faded tattoos that have blurred like old memories.
Harley turns the shower knob all the way to the left. HISS. Cold. He turns it further. Rattle-clank. Icy, needle-like spray. 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. He stands up, removes his leather jacket for