Liz looked at me, I looked at her. The shower water still rained down upon us. She then turned her eyes downward and smiled.
"I'm glad I could take care of your problem. In fact," as she playfully moved like a robot, "As the great Andrew Martin once said, one is glad to be of service."
We laughed. That was her favorite movie growing up. She always suggested it for movie night every chance she got. She told me once that the journey to find another like yourself spoke to her, but it could have also been that this was one of the few movies that weren't too scratched to play completely.
Liz closed her eyes and tilted her head back to let the water fully engulf her hair. She had hair that was the same as our father's, a dirty blonde. She kept hers past her shoulders.
My eyes caught a stray droplet of water as it bounced from her head and traveled down her slender neck and then past her delicate collarbone. The droplet continued down her shapely breasts until it merged with a stream that ran down her trim belly. Mesmerized, my eyes followed the stream of water as it flowed past her waist down to her neatly shaven pussy. The stream continued down her long athletic legs until it reached the shower floor.
Liz straightened as she ran soapy fingers through her hair. She opened her eyes to see me as I stood there like a wide-eyed idiot.
"You know this is a shower, and it's usually considered normal to wash," she flung her soapy hand in my direction, scattered bubbles splayed across my chest. "Do I need to call mom and see if she still has Mr. Squeaker?"
Mr. Squeaker was a toy duck my stepmom used to distract me long enough to ensure I fully cleaned in the bathtub. I couldn't believe she still remembered that, but they brought it out in every communal bath until we were old enough to wash with no supervision.
"You wouldn't dare do that," as I gave her a dirty look. She grinned, then laughed.
I shampooed my short black hair and squeezed past Liz so I could compete for the showers' attention. She didn't move out of the way as I expected, instead; she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I twisted and wrapped mine around her. The water washed away the soap bubbles between us.
"This is nice, just the two of us, as it has always been since the beginning," as Liz rested her head on my chest.
"Does it make you happy when it's just the two of us?"
"Of course, and if I could shrink you and put you in my pocket, I would carry you with me at all times."
I hugged her tighter, and she responded in kind. Our naked wet bodies seemed to merge as one. I felt her gentle heartbeat against me. My body must have had a giant Liz-shaped hole because now with her pressed against me, skin to skin, I felt whole. Everything seemed clear, almost as if I could challenge the world and win. I felt complete; I wanted her to stay in my life forever and never let her go.
As she held me tightly and I heard her say, "Never leave my life again."
We stood there and embraced one another until the shower turned cold. I turned the water off and she never moved and never let go; I continued to hold her.
After some time, Liz broke the silence, "Hey, Jon," she said sheepishly. "Why did you never dance with me?"
"Huh, what do you mean?"
"Do you remember during senior year when your English class threw a traditional royal English ball?"
"Yeah, I think I remember that," I said, even though I only vaguely remembered.
"We stayed up late, and you told me all about the different dances you had learned. You said you would teach me. But you never did."
I remembered that night. The next day in the morning, my mom found out where we lived and had an argument with my dad and stepmom. There was yelling and crying, and I don't remember what it was about. I had forgotten all about teaching Liz to dance.
She continued, "I was secretly hoping you would have just swooped me up out of bed and dance the night away."
"Well, I think I remember it already super late. I'm sorry I forgot. How about I show you later?"
