Water droplets fell from the shower head, hitting the tile and creating sounds that resembled that of a human heartbeat. They then gathered around the drain, mixing with soap and blood.

Luke sat on the tile, desperately trying to scrub away the events that took place earlier that day. It was proving to be a difficult task. At first, such a task happened to be accidental– continuous scrubbing and scratching as the man thought deeply. Then it progressed into something intentional. It was no longer dirt and dead skin cells surrounding the drain, but instead evidence of blood.

The remaining layers of skin were red and irritated, but Luke didn't think twice. In fact, he was hardly thinking at all. He just kept scrubbing away with the shower brush, ignoring the small droplets of blood that formed on sensitive skin.

He could not find it in himself to care. He just kept thinking– thinking and scrubbing vigorously until Luke had rid himself of sin.

Tears threatened to drop from those dark blue eyes, but the man held his breath and closed them in attempt to pull himself back together. Salty droplets mixed with irony tap water, but it happened to be the tears that had escaped Luke's eyelids.

Judging by the violent sob that shook him, Luke was failing to control the negative thoughts. His lungs caved as he heaved out a heaving cry. This left him without air, momentarily allowing the teacher a second of silence before he was forced to breathe again.

No, it was not only the homophobic teachings that made him do it. There had been the guilt. The hidden sliver of regret he held. Around Ashton, Luke had not said a thing about their intimate action. He had simply taken a step back and pretended that he had never sinned, and that the kiss had never took place.

But it was hard for Luke to pretend when all he could think about was a certain male's lips against his, and accompanying that, the sudden urge to be around the student who had written him letters.

Ultimately, Luke had to accept the fact that perhaps being with another man was not a blasphemy. It was something he could pride himself on; he just needed to learn. The teacher needed to be taught how to accept himself. For that to happen, however, roles would have to be reversed.